


Wanted Man

by Trekflower (TrekFlower)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Bandits & Outlaws, Cowboys & Cowgirls, F/M, First Time Sex, Gun Violence, Hot Springs, Kazon (Star Trek), Kidnapping, Meet-Cute, Not Really Character Death, Old West, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekFlower/pseuds/Trekflower
Summary: We find ourselves far from Space in the wild frontier. Traveling unknown territories, braving what comes your way. This here is the ancient West.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, Culluh/Seska (Star Trek), Neelix & Tuvok (Star Trek), Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 145
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my first fanfic I attempted, it's a little different.  
> I'm just borrowing the Voyager peps for my own evil enjoyment.

She looked down to her paper then back to the man at the bar. He was slowly drinking his way through a brown bottle of whiskey. The saloon was sparsely occupied with a lone table of gamblers and some rosy-cheeked whores, looking to make a few coins. She folded the parchment out of sight, damned if anyone recognized the man and got to her prize first.

The dark-skinned Red hid himself as well as he could. The brim of a black hat pulled low to cover most of his markings, but she could still make out a few lines just above his left brow. Chakotay, aka The Chief, was wanted in the Wyoming territory for robbing the Union Pacific RailRoad, and _she_ , Kathryn Janeway, had found him.

More than once, Kathryn watched the establishment’s women offer themselves to him, but he politely refused them one by one. Perhaps he had more refined tastes than what was offered in this rundown saloon in Carson City. He was a good looking man. The outlaw’s poster did not do him justice.

When the girls finally focused their efforts elsewhere Kathryn decided to make her move. She pulled up to the bar next to the Chief then threw down a few coins for the man standing behind it. “That any good?” she asked Chakotay pointing to his drink.

“Not really,” he responded in earnest.

“Perfect, I’ll have what he’s having,” she tells the barkeep. Kathryn removes her hat, letting her auburn hair fall freely down her back. An act the Chief takes notice of and she pretends to be blind to. Kathryn tosses the hat next to the bottle placed in front of her.

“A toast,” she says. Pulling the cork free and pouring herself a glass. “To the voyage.”

“Here, here,” he lifts his own drink.

The pair throwback the contents of their glasses together, he smiles revealing dark dimples. “And who might you be ma’am?”

“Call me Kathryn. Ma’am is my mother’s name.” He laughed emptying the last of his bottle, barely enough to be called a proper drink. Kathryn saw to it that his glass was filled from her own. “And what do they call you around here sir.”

“Chakotay.” He tipped his hat, giving more than a friendly greeting to the new acquaintance. The gesture gave Kathryn a peek at his unmistakable tattoo. There was no doubt in her mind now that _this_ was her man. Albeit a handsome man, but not too bright.

“Well Mr. Chakotay, keep me company a while and half this bottle is yours.” She flashed him a large city-girl smile that she had practiced for just such an occasion.

=/\=

Chakotay woke to a throbbing skull, due in part to drink and part by the blood draining to his head. His shoulders and neck ached from the strange angle he found himself in and he couldn’t take in a full breath. His chest was crushed under his own weight in a leather saddle he was draped across. The horse beneath him did not help as it rocked back and forth over the rocky dirt. His hands were bound together. His body roped to the saddle. It would appear that Chakotay had been shanghaied.

Before too long the rough swaying of the horse caused Chakotay to empty the contents of his stomach to the ground, narrowly missing the horse.

“Easy there Chief,” came a husky female voice. His horse stopped and he heard footsteps approach. All he could make out was the silhouette of a petite woman, his eyes blinded by the clear sky above. When his eyes adjusted, he remembered the woman from the night before in the saloon.

He felt the restraints around his middle go slack then a shove on his shoulders. Gravity did the rest, depositing him not so gracefully, to the ground. Kathryn kneeled beside him, a revolver in one hand and a canteen in the other. “Here,” she held out the canteen. “Need to keep your strength up, long way from here to Wyoming, Chief.”

He took a few swigs of water offered to him.

“That _is_ what they call you, The Chief?” she gave him a wicked smile.

“I wouldn’t have figured a small pretty gal like you to be a bounty hunter,” he ignored the question and took one more drink before handing it back.

“That’s the beauty of it, no one suspects me neither.” She helped him to his feet. Her gun trained on him as he rose.

Chakotay towered above the woman at his full height. He looked down at her then glanced at the horse he was just on. “How did you get me up there?” he asked. He was easily twice her size. Kathryn did not seem so small last night. But then again, he was fairly drunk even before she started filling his glass until he blacked out.

“Bounty hunters prerogative, I’ll keep that little secret to myself. But now that you’re conscious, I’m sure you can figure how to get up on your own.” She motioned to the horse with her firearm.

He climbed up onto the chestnut mare. The reins of his horse were tied around the saddle-horn of her painted mustang. Kathryn mounted then headed east in the direction of Utah and Wyoming. Chakotay couldn’t help but laugh at himself. He sure did have a weakness for beautiful strong women. When Kathryn marched up to him in that saloon wearing a dark suit and a matching wide brim hat, he knew he was in trouble. If only he had taken a fancy to one of the ladies last night he’d still be a free man, at least for one more day. As far as bounty hunters go she was extremely handsome and his view of her backside didn’t hurt matters either.

=/\=

They rode till dusk and Kathryn stopped them next to a little stream.

“Better get a fire going Chief, I only got blankets for me and the horses,” she chuckled, as she watered the horses. 

“Little hard to do with my hands bound,” he growled back at his captor.

“I’m so sorry you’re uncomfortable,” her tone mocking. “But you’re an outlaw. Best shut your mouth and get use to them.”

“I’m just saying the task would be faster if I could use my hands,” he protested.

“Would you rather I hogtie you to the horse, cause that’s where this is headed,” her blue eyes glared at him. The look was hard and chilling. It was a look that brought out winter in a man’s soul. Such a look was only ever learned through the hardships of life. Kathryn, a lone woman roaming the countryside for outlaws, must have lived through the hardest of times to bring out such a look. Chakotay said no more of the bindings and managed to spark a fire.

Kathryn tenderly brushed the horses’ coats after removing the saddles. Chakotay watched her careful work, hoping to understand the woman that had entrapped him. Once finished she whispered to each of them then joined him by the fire.

“So what am I worth?” he asked fiddling with the burning logs.

“500 dollars,” she sat. Then rested her head against the saddle on the ground.

“Five hundred dollars, for me?” he laughed. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “My share from the heist only came to 300.”

At that Kathryn chuckled, “crime doesn’t pay.”

“Not as well as hunting criminals apparently,” his amusement faded. “Once we get to Wyoming then what?”

Kathryn paused a moment staring into the fire. Did he really not understand how this works? Clearly he was not the brains behind the heist. “I turn you over. You go to jail. I collect my earnings and move on.”

Chakotay nodded his understanding. He was not happy with the thought of giving up his freedom. He and his people had theirs taken from them time after time. But as an outlaw he had grown weary of running, always looking over his shoulder. He hadn’t known peace in a long time. “To find the next wanted man unfortunate enough to cross your path,” he said absentmindedly.

“Nope, I head west to San Francisco,” she answered pulling out a flask from her breast pocket. She took a long pull from it then offered some to Chakotay.

“I think I better keep to water when I’m around you.”

“Don’t worry Chief, its filled with my leftover coffee. I hate to waste any.”

He politely declined. “What’s in San Francisco?”

“That’s my business Chief,” her tone raspy and harsh.

“Seeing as it is the bounty on my head paying for your bright new future. I’d like to know what it is, what is a man’s life worth to you?” His focus was entirely on her. Kathryn noted that his features to not appear threatening, or lustful, he was looking at her as an equal. Only one other man looked at her in such a way and he was long dead now.

She pocketed the old coffee. Kathryn was trading Chakotay for a new life, yes, but it is going to be a far cry from the one she had imagined a year ago. What was the harm in telling him? Once they were in Wyoming she’d never intended on seeing him again. “I hear they need teachers. After my father and fiancée died, I’ve been trying to carve out a new life for myself. Not an easy task as an unwed woman.” She paused turning to look at him as the firelight danced across his features. “Saw your poster as I was headed West. You didn’t strike me as the killing type, and they ain’t gunna hang someone for a little robbery. I figure this one little job and my life can start anew.”

Chakotay listened thoughtfully.

Kathryn expected him to be angry, she never intended to be hunting down a wanted man. The Chief had been caught purely out of chance happenings, nothing more.

Chakotay’s expression was soft. He had not expected this beautifully tough woman to give him a real answer. That underneath her stoic mask was a woman hurting from the harshness of this world. He hated to see good people suffer and the women of the west either turned tough or turned up dead. Here sat a woman who had suffered probably more than she was willing to say, and still had the courage to move forward. 

“Then let’s get me to Wyoming,” he gave her a sympathetic smile.

A disbelieved look washed over her.

“I did rob that train, and now I must pay the consequences. If my payment will buy you a better life, I’ll go with you willingly. I just ask one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“Don’t call me Chief.”

=/\=


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road to Wyoming from Carson City is long. Kathryn needs to be smart to make it to her destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks to: Chakochick who is amazing and did me a solid by being my first Beta reader, which totally elevated my simple minded words. 
> 
> Warning: There is some adult language. Also some non-consent groping and violence. Sorry but it was the old west after all.

Chakotay rose with the dawning of the sun. The sky faded from purple to a fiery orange. The night stars vanished one by one as the land illuminated with the light of the new day. Kathryn Janeway, the bounty hunter who had captured him in a drunken stupor in Carson City, remained asleep with a 6 shot ready in hand. Chakotay watched the pale skinned contentment of the sleeping woman. Though she had a look that felt like the coldest of winters, he regarded her as quite the beauty especially in this peaceful state. Her delicate features growing ever radiant with the rising sun stretching across the land. 

He had come to the conclusion that he didn't stand a chance the night she slid up next to him at the bar. Flashing him a smile and a kind word. Though it may have all been faked to secure his capture, she was lovely to look at.

That morning while straining to stretch his arms and back against his restraints. Chakotay had found a flaw in their securement, one that a dishonorable man would take advantage of. Had Kathryn held any other criminal with these bindings, she not may have awoken the next morning to learn of her error. 

But Chakotay was not that kind of man. Kathryn had opened up to him, if only briefly. This gave him hope that in the wilds of the vast expanse of land there were still decent men and women. Tough as she may act, Chakotay believed she was one of those decent people. He removed the rope to rub at the irritated skin beneath, but quickly slipped it back on when she began to stir. 

“Good morning,” he called to her. 

She stretched her muscles in the same manner as he, the briefests of smiles ghosted past her lips before falling firmly into a stern glare. “Figur’n how to get free? Or do you get a kick at watch’n people sleep?” she asked, holstering her gun. Her voice husky and full of sleep, she felt around for her flask of old coffee before even considering food. 

“More to the latter,” he answered with faint dimples that she didn't mind seeing. 

Kathryn pulled the flask from her pocket and took a quick swig. Her eyes shut and she sighed of breath of pleasure as the bitter liquid danced over the tongue before running down her throat. Chakotay felt that he was witnessing a spiritual experience from her. The way her body fell still, her expression peaceful, and her mind focused on the drink in her hand. He wondered if fresh coffee would give her the same release. 

Before too long Kathryn's mindfulness returned, her focus coming back to where they sat. She pocketed the coffee then rummaged through a saddle bag that had been next to her all night. She stood, handing Chakotay some dried meat and a piece of bread before beginning to saddle the horses.

“You're not eating,” it was meant as a statement more then a question from Chakotay, watching as she tied the bag shut. 

“I’ll be fine Chief.” She dusted out the blanket before laying it on the mustang’s back. 

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Sorry. Cha-ko-tay.” She struggled with the enunciation, but at least she tried. 

“Thank you, might I suggest if you are going without food, at least keep the bag away from you at night. Don’t want to attract predators while you sleep,” he explained tearing at the meat with his teeth. 

“I’ll keep that in mind," she replied with an appreciative nod.

=/\=

For the next eight days, Kathryn rode East in the direction of Wyoming. It was also to the beginnings of her new life in San Francisco, pending the collection of 500 dollars for her captor, Chakotay. The handsome Indian, who was as tall as he was broad, had thus far been true to his word. He did not vocalize his displeasure of the ropes nor did he try to escape, it would seem that he was willingly following her to his own imprisonment. But Kathryn still wasn't convinced.

What man would give up his own freedom for a stranger's benefit? 

The night she slung the outlaw onto her deceased fiance's horse. She knew the journey to Wyoming would be long, and being that she was alone in this, she devised a plan to test the outlaws character. Though it was risky, Kathryn tied the drunken Indian's ropes in such a way that he could get free if he tried. She pretended to sleep their first night together to see what he'd do, as it was most likely for him to try an escape. Unfortunately Kathryn dozed off before she could see the results. Now she could only speculate. Had he figured it out? Was he pretending, biding his time to take advantage of the situation? Or perhaps he was just simple, handsome, but all around simple. She watched for any signs that his hands were free, but after a week of observation still had no answer. 

Kathryn had grown tired with little to no sleep at night and the hard long ride by day. But she kept telling herself it would all be worth it once they reached Wyoming. 

For over a week the pair rode without incident, seeing nothing and no one except for the wildlife of the open range. A tranquil ride if not for the hurried nature of Kathryn's desire to get to her destination. 

As they rode along, Kathryn was able to gun down a small prairie mammal with her rifle. She hoped the shot would make Chakotay think twice about running if he _had_ figured out the ropes. Chakotay was impressed that Kathryn was able to expertly fire a shot through the animal’s head that was no bigger than her fist. She decided to stop and cook the meat now before it spoiled. 

Chakotay slid from his horse, beginning his usual task of collecting wood to start a small fire. Kathryn was preparing to skin the animal on a nearby rock when Chakotay asked to help. “Kathryn may I do that?”

“You expect me to give you a knife?” she asked sarcastically. 

“Well, yes.” he said bluntly. “You may be a deadeye with the rifle but your skinning needs work, and your cooking more so.”

Kathryn stared at him for a moment, then threw back her head in laughter. Her laugh was raspy and full and Chakotay liked hearing it. She wiped tears from her eyes, her amusement tempered by the need to stay vigilant. 

Chakotay took this opportunity of her delight to prove he meant her no harm. He loosened the ropes from his wrists and let it slip to the ground. Surprising to him, she watched with a lopsided grin, knife in hand. “When did you figure it out?”

“That first night.” 

Kathryn’s grin grew into a full blown smile reaching her blue eyes, lighting her face with the beauty he remembered from their first morning together in the dawning sun. “And here I thought you was a little soft in the head.” 

She walked over to him handing him the knife and the animal. “Be my guest Cha-ko-tay. I hate cooking anyway.”

He nodded his thanks and began the task of cleaning the meat as he had learned to do from his mother and older sister when he was a young boy. To her delight, Kathryn discovered that Chakotay was a much better cook then she. With his hands free, and her trust in his word now solidified, she held no qualms about letting him remain unbound so that the task of preparing all future meals could be his. It was also clear to Kathryn that she could now fully rest at night.

=/\=

Before midday the next day, Kathryn's and Chakotay's tranquil advancement to the Wyoming territory was interrupted by a whirlwind of dust kicked into the air on the horizon. Kathryn reined her steed to a halt; she conveyed concern, and was instantly set on high alert. The dust was not picked up by the wind alone, something or likely someone was disturbing it. Chakotay followed her lead as they quickly diverted behind a jagged outcrop of rocks.

Kathryn jumped off her horse and grabbed something from her saddle bag before crawling up the rockface they hid behind. Without question Chakotay followed suit, crouching low behind her as she climbed. Trying, but failing, to not watch her slender body ascend like a mountain lion. Kathryn reached a flat space big enough for the both of them and lay in the dirt, extending the object she pulled from the bag. 

She studied the group in the distance. “I count ten men,” Kathryn said handing the telescope to Chakotay. He peered through the looking glass down at a Kazon gang. Unfortunately for them, the gang sat right in the direction they needed to go, and right where the unruly gang could see everything in the open range. If the Kazon discovered that Chakotay had a bounty on his head, then there would be no telling how ruthless they would be before killing her and taking him for themselves. Course the Kazon might just kill them both for no reason whatsoever.

“Well, what do you want to do? It’s your call. You’re the captain of our little group,” Chakotay smiled, hard pressed dimples appeared into his chiseled features. 

“Ha, ha,” she responded sarcastically, taking back her telescope. Trying to avoid his dimples that had worked themselves into her dreams. “We'll double back and head south. There is a passage through a canyon.” She climbed back down from the edge, shoving the looking glass into her bag in frustration.

“But that’s in the wrong direction."

She didn’t need reminding. The longer it took her to get to Wyoming the longer it would take to get to San Francisco. 

"Well if you ain’t been pay’n attention, the right direction will get us both dead. I don't know about you but I do not intend to start my new life that way," she retorted in a husky voice as Chakotay joined her back at the horses. She roped her auburn hair into a bun tucking it beneath her black hat. From afar one might mistake her for a young man. Better to appear as a man at any age then a woman, a simple trick in this open lawless countryside. 

“Come on Chi-” she paused to catch herself, “Cha-ko-tay. Best we be as far from those Kazon as possible before nightfall.” Kathryn ordered climbing into her saddle. Chakotay mounted his own horse. His heart lifted. Although Kathryn was a bounty hunter, and he her prisoner, she was making an effort to treat him with civility by using his given name. All the more reason he felt compelled to keep his word to ride with her unchallenged.

Kathryn was a petite woman. He could overpower her easily enough but for the first time in a long time he was at peace. It could have been that he was finally being brought to justice for his crimes. But Chakotay felt it had more to do with the woman that had caught him while on the run. He tried to learn all he could of Kathryn, but she gave up very little. She would not talk of her father or fiance, nor their accident. She would not talk about her family homestead, but he did learn it resided somewhere in Indiana. From his point of view Kathryn was lonely but determined to start fresh in the West as a school teacher. She had a passion for science and math, and figured teaching was the best use of those skills for a woman like her. From their short time together Chakotay could tell she held a fire and a passion equal to any warrior he had faced before, if not more so. 

They took off in the direction of the canyons Kathryn described. The ride took nearly half the day, but at least they ran into no more Kazon along the way. Kathryn pushed them hard to get there, she was unwilling to slow or let her guard down until they were well into Utah territory. Kazon gang’s were notorious for robbing, raping, and murdering anything that cross their paths, and not always in that order. Their supposed territory spread far and it seemed to change daily. Best that they avoid them as much as possible.

=/\=

The rocky mass forming the canyon was painted in the lines of time. Earthen colors marked the different centuries it took nature to create this great divide in the land. Chakotay recognized the rocky landmark from stories told by his elders. Their stories were of a time when his people would travel great distances. It was a time when his people were untroubled by the invading strangers who claimed ownership of this land. The land was a gift to all by the Sky Spirits, how could the pale man claim a gift which was fruitful enough for all?

"Kathryn stop!" he called out to her just as she was about to pass through the opening. His sudden call carried with it a force that spooked her horse. Rearing up, Kathryn struggled to calm the beast while maintaining her seat in the saddle. Chakotay’s stomach tightened fearing she may be thrown to the ground from his foolishness. But Kathryn held on tight eventually settling the beast, placing several pats on the painted horse’s neck for reassurance before throwing him a chilling glare. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Her brazen voice echoed off the stony walls behind her. Overhanging rocks shifted from the vibrations promptly giving in to gravity’s pull. The sound of the rock’s lethal tumble bounced through the canyon, a thundering sound of the danger ahead.

Chakotay looked at her apologetically as he held a finger to his lips, pulling up beside her. “There is a legend about this passage from my people,” he spoke softly. Kathryn cocked him an eyebrow, a sign for him to continue. 

“It is said that Coyote, being brave and clever, had passed through these rocks many times. But one night he was followed by Lonely Wolf. While traveling this canyon Lonely Wolf lost sight of Coyote and cried out in frustration. Coyote made it through to the other side but Lonely Wolf was never seen again. The story is a warning to pass quickly but quietly. The rocks are unstable here," he explained. 

"I can see that," she huffed. She took a sharp breath steadying herself, examining all the possible deadly boulders above them. Unbeknownst to her, she had quite literally brought them into a situation of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one side the Kazon gang, on the other, possibly being crushed by falling rocks. Both deadly and both hazards needing to be overcome. For lack of a better option Kathryn nudged her horse forward into the canyon.

=/\=

It took them a little over an hour to get through. On more than one occasion Chakotay saved Kathryn from the shifting rocks. He would have called out a warning but it would only have made matters worse. Instead he snatched her reins galloping them forward to narrowly miss being crushed. Reluctantly Kathryn allowed him to lead as he clearly was more equipped at spotting the dangers before she was. They passed safely to the other side but did not rest until they were beyond the canyon’s echo.

“Thank you,” Kathryn uttered to Chakotay as they stopped to rest the horses and themselves for a spell. 

“For what?”

“Warning me about the canyon, and getting us through in one piece. I didn’t know the rocks were that unstable,” she admitted. 

“Well you can’t collect on my bounty if we are both dead,” he smiled. “Hungry?” She nodded. “Good, cause there is a rabbit over there.” He pointed to a tan hare that blended so seamlessly into the landscape, Kathryn would never have spotted it. 

She pulled her rifle and shot the creature in a single attempt. Chakotay skinned and cooked the animal, just as he had done the last time he recalled seeing her eat. Perhaps his cooking would tempt her to ingest more than cold coffee and water. 

"Can I ask you something Chakotay?" Kathryn spoke, his name seemingly easier for her to say. He passed her some of the cooked meat, watching as she popped the hot piece into her mouth. As usual, it was good and far more edible than her own attempts. He cut her some more as she asked, “Why did you rob the railroad?” 

“Would you believe it if I said I’d done it for a woman?”

“Seeing as you follow me like a beat dog...” she teased, giving him a wink. He returned the smile and sat back from the fire. Filtering through the memories that had turned him into a wanted man. 

“Her name was Seska, and for a while I _thought_ I was in love.” He looked down and studied the back of his hands, obviously ashamed of his memories with her. His features darkened. “Seska used me for wicked deeds and had me convinced that I was doing good. We stole from the men that benefited from the theft of my people’s souls.”

“You two were Robin Hood and Little John,” she said softly. “Rob’n from the rich to give to the poor.”

“I’m unfamiliar with that tale. But long story short, me and her parted ways outside of Cheyenne when we didn’t see eye-to-eye. The Spirits were looking over me and I heard she ran another heist after I left. Tail is that she, with a new gang of her’s, ended up in a shootout killing several lawmen.”

They sat quietly for a moment, Kathryn silently regarding her ward. Chakotay was not what Kathryn expected; he held no joy for what he had done, only regret. His story made her realize the two of them were not so different. They both were trying to run from their pasts, neither of them getting very far. She was certain life had been cruel to him because of his skin color just as much as it had to her for being a woman. Hopefully a time would come when gender and race wouldn’t matter. America’s promise of freedom and justice to all was still just a far off dream to many. 

Kathryn had forgotten what it was like to rely on another person. She had isolated herself after the accident that took her father and fiancée; determined to be independent so she would never feel such sorrow again. Her time with Chakotay almost made her wish he wasn’t wanted. However, she knew Chakotay’s companionship was only temporary, and once he was handed over it would be no more. She rested a sympathetic hand on his, holding his gaze. Offering a reassuring look of understanding, if only in part. 

He flashed a dimpled smile.

“I was able to make my way to Carson City. Course a month later I ran into an auburn haired woman that turned my life upside down.” He gave her a wink then took a big breath of air. The missionary folk had preached to his people that confession was the only way to salvation. It was only now in the presence of Kathryn’s warm, strong and beautiful spirit that he truly felt his guilt lift. 

“And ain’t you the better for it,” she took back her hand and nudged his side, lightening the mood.

Chakotay laughed.

“Well. I reckon this fine meal deserves a fine drink to go with it. How about some fresh coffee?” Chakotay noted the sparkle in her eye from her suggestion, and agreed with a nod. He was eager to see her pleasure as she drank. She strolled her way to the horses searching the saddle bag for her prize tin of black grounds, worth more to her than gold.

Her hand clasped around the metal canister when the sickening sound of a cocked weapon gave Kathryn pause. Cold steel rested against the base of her skull and she slowly turned to the brute holding the gun. 

Her nose was assaulted before her eyes and she wondered how the man managed to sneak up on her reeking of putrid eggs and manure. His face, one only a mother could love, was pocked red with scars and sores. His hair stuck out in all directions from under his hat. It was in desperate need to be cut as it looked more like dried coral then human hair in the hot sun. Relieving her of her gun, he flicked his own deadly steel in the direction of Chakotay, telling her to get moving.

Chakotay was surrounded by the same manner of ugly armed men, his hands laced together behind his head. Kathryn walked over to him as instructed studying the men as she went, gauging the odds of fighting their way to freedom.

“Move faster woman,” the Kazon thug barked, kicking the back of her leg. His spur rattled against her flesh and she cried out tumbling to the ground.

“You son of a bitch!” Chakotay shouted, jumping to his feet. His actions prompted an echo of cocked guns to be pointed at his head. Kathryn held up a hand to stop Chakotay, a bruised thigh was nothing to a bullet hole. Kathryn just hoped the Kazon's trigger discipline was better than their bathing habits.

"Can I be the one to shoot him Culluh?" One of the men asked. 

"All in good time," the man that kicked her answered. “What’s the matter _Red_ , don’t like me touching your woman?” The one called Culluh asked. He marched up to Chakotay sizing him up from tip to toe. Chakotay stood a head taller, but the Kazon brought himself so close Chakotay could taste the thug’s stink. “Empty your pockets of your valuables," he barked. 

Chakotay spat at him, nailing the ugly Kazon across the cheek.

Culluh wiped the spittle away, then clobbered Chakotay over the head with the blunt end of his gun. Chakotay stumbled to a knee, blood flowing down his temple. His vision dimmed for a moment, but he held firm to concentrate on Kathryn, who was still sprawled out in the dirt, clutching her leg. “I'll just empty your woman’s pockets myself then," he growled with amusement.

Culluh holstered his gun then dragged Kathryn to her feet. "If the Red moves again shoot'm," he ordered, beginning his search of Kathryn. He ran his hands up and down, exploring her body as much as her pockets. If the anger in Kathryn’s eye could burn, Culluh would be a pile of ash. As it was, she resigned herself to being molested, if it meant getting out of this alive. His tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he went, clearly enjoying himself. 

When he got to her inside pockets he lingered over her breasts, smiling as he gave them a squeeze over her blouse. It took everything Kathryn had to hold her composure. It had been a long time since she had been touched in such a way, and his filthy hands bore down too hard on her sensitive flesh.

Kathryn pictured stringing Culluh up. She wanted to drag him behind her horse till he was an inch from death, content that she would lose no sleep over it. But she and Chakotay were seriously outnumbered. She had to react wisely. So she did the only thing she could, not react in any way to his perversion.

Chakotay on the other hand had no poker face. His nostrils flared and his blood boiled. To disrespect a woman brought back painful memories. The Kazon moved on from the fondling and pulled out a folded piece of paper with Chakotay’s face on it.

“Well, well, well. Looks like we have just come into some big money boys,” he examined the paper.

Unluckily for Kathryn, even an illiterate could understand a wanted poster.

“Got ourselves a gen-u-wine criminal.” He turned his attention from Kathryn, pulling the gun from his thigh, and pointing it at Chakotay's head. 

“Wait,” she shouted swiftly leaping in front of the gun. “He’s wanted alive. Kill him and you get nothing.” It was an outright lie, but she was betting on the chance that none of them could actually read. 

“That right?” he chuckled, lowering his weapon. "Fine, we won’t shoot him." He wet his lips, the wheels of his small mind turning. Was he deciding how quickly he and his man could rape her before taking Chakotay? 

He examined the paper once more aiming the gun to Kathryn’s heart. “Course I don’t see any need to keep his woman.” 

Culluh pulled back on the trigger firing a single ear piercing shot at her. Kathryn felt the bullet ripping through her left shoulder. She dropped hard to the ground, her body kicking up a ploom of dust. Shock from the overwhelming pain now consumed her. She gasped for air withering on the ground, clutching her chest. 

Chakotay’s stomach dropped, adrenaline poured through his veins turning his mind animalistic and wild. Out of instinct he charged Culluh knocking him to the ground, clobbering him with his bare fists. Either the men were too shocked or too stupid to do anything before Chakotay wrestled the gun away, holding their comrade in a headlock with the barrel to his temple.

“Drop’em, or I blow his head off!” he shouted. He was not a killer by nature but in that moment, blinded by fury, he would have ended them all.

The group did as they were told. “Kathryn? Kathryn, you with me?”

She lay bleeding on the ground clutching her shoulder. He could not see the wound clearly with all the blood. If he hadn’t seen it, he would have thought she had been hit several times from the amount of crimson liquid spilling out of her.

“You!” He shouted, tilting his head to the closest man. “Get her on the horse.”

The man hesitantly looked at Culluh. “Do it,” he yelled, struggling for air in Chakotay’s arm. 

Kathryn moaned as she was moved. The brute pushed her into the saddle handing her the reins then backed away slowly. She took them with her good arm, waiting for Chakotay. He gave her a nod and she took off in a full gallop.

“Don’t follow or you’ll get worse next time,” he growled. He threw Culluh to the ground firing the gun straight through the slimebag’s foot. Chakotay jumped on his own horse and took off after Kathryn. The howl of the injured man growing faint in the distance.

=/\=

Warm sticky blood trickled down Kathryn’s arm. She was quickly losing the strength to stay upright. If they carried on much longer, she’d surely fall unconscious from the blood loss. Kathryn did not want to die in this barren country, but with little hope in sight there was not much fight left in her to keep going.

“Hold on Kathryn,” she heard Chakotay urge as he rode next to her. “How are you gonna collect on that bounty if you’re dead?” He tried to keep her mind focused, awake. She was tough as nails but everyone had their physical limits, and Chakotay did not want to find out what hers were; not today, not because of him. 

“Guess you’ll be free to go then,” she answered, her voice weak and breathy. She gave him a crooked smile before slumping over in her saddle. 

“Kathryn!” he stopped the horses. He shook her “Kathryn!” yelling again but she would not wake. Her physical limitations were close and she was slowly losing the battle to stay alive. Chakotay climbed over to her horse, sitting behind her on the painted mustang. He gently pulled her body to rest against his. Even in the heat her skin felt cold. She needed help now, she was running out of time. Chakotay kicked the horse into high gear, heading north. He knew of a place that had once been a safe haven, and for Kathryn’s sake he hoped it still was.

=/\=

On the horizon, through the murky haze of heat, Chakotay spotted a small farm house. Atop its wooden roof sat a copper weathervane beginning to green with age. The familiar sight of the horseless carriage weather instrument hoisted his spirits, even though he was told he would no longer be welcome beneath. But he had no choice. Kathryn was dying, that much was clear, he had to get her help. He just hoped he wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

With haste he rode them to the front of the home. The sound of a shotgun split the air halting Chakotay’s advance along with his hopes that this could be Kathryn’s salvation. He held out a hand showing he meant no threat, the other kept Kathryn’s unconscious body to him.

In a cloud of dust, standing on the creaking porch, holding a loaded shotgun was a tall blond man with bright blue eyes.

“Tom,” Chakotay greeted.

“Chief,” he spat back in anger.

=/\=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart is overwhelmed by the level of interest for this story idea. Thank you all so much for commenting and encouraging, without it this chapter may have never seen the light of day!! Thank you


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guns, blood, and China-man. Oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies this chapter took a while to get out, but I wanted to do the story justice. Hopefully ya'll enough enjoy it. 
> 
> Special thanks go to Chakochick and Coffeeblack75 for the amazing Beta reads. Ya'll is the best!

The day had begun like any other for Tom Paris: rising with the dawn, seeing to the chores, fighting to keep his regret and guilt at bay as he tried to live his life. A life he had promised his wife, but which lacked the satisfaction he’d thought he’d get from settling down. The day was nearly spent, and he sat in a rocking chair studying his shaky hands. Being busy helped to distract him from the tremors, but when the days wound down, he had nothing but his thoughts for company. Tom hoped the shaking would stop, or even that the jerky movements would lessen over time, but as three months came and went, his hands remained a constant reminder of his drunken, shame-filled past. 

He gripped the armrests as he rocked, closing his eyes to take in the familiar sounds of his ranch. Sheep roaming in their pen outside, chickens clucking as they circled the house in search for bugs, even the sound of his dog snoring heavily on the porch — these were all peaceful and familiar. It was then that the sound of galloping horses had Tom to his feet in search for his shotgun. The Paris Ranch received few visitors, and of those it did, none were welcome. 

Tom’s mundane day was about to be turned on its head.

=/\=

He fired a warning shot in the air. “Who’s your friend?” he asked, nodding towards the unconscious woman bleeding out in Chakotay’s embrace.

“Tom, she needs help. She’s dying!” Chakotay pleaded, one hand outstretched in surrender, drenched in blood, the other holding the woman close to him. 

Her shirt was soaked crimson; the thick liquid spilled over the leather saddle and added yet another color to the painted mustang’s coat. Tom trained his firearm on them, unwilling to yield to the desperation in Chakotay’s eyes.

“I’m not about that life anymore. If y’all in trouble, best to keep riding. This here is sanctuary no more,” he shouted back. His hands continued to shake around the steel they held, but he really didn’t need to be steady for the buckshot that would come flying out. The only trouble was that the one shot he had left would miss most of the Chief, being, as he was, behind the dying lady.

Before Tom could convince himself to pull the trigger, the door to the farmhouse flew open and out marched a tan-skinned woman with thick dark hair. “What in the hell is going on?” she demanded.

“Never you mind, B’Elanna, go inside and—”

Before Tom could finish ordering his wife into the safety of their home, B’Elanna ripped the gun out of his wavering hands and fired the remaining shot into the air. She threw the unloaded gun back at her husband with angry wrath burning in her eyes. 

“What the hell B’E—” Tom started before her hand made forceful contact with his cheek. 

“You shut the hell up, Paris,” she barked, turning her attention now to the visitors. “Get her inside quickly, Chakotay,” she ordered, utterly ignoring Tom’s look of protest behind her. 

Tom watched as Chakotay let out the breath he had been holding and quickly slid from his horse, pulling his companion into his arms. Her face was pale, her body limp; she didn’t have much time left. Chakotay carried her past Tom, following B’Elanna over the threshold into the house, leaving Tom to consider what he should do now that the Chief had rode back into his life.

=/\=

Chakotay navigated to a small room in the back where he laid Kathryn out on a flimsy cot he knew well from his time thieving with Seska. He tenderly brushed the sweat-slicked hair from her face, accidentally smearing a few droplets of blood from his hand onto her forehead. He began unbuttoning her blouse to examine the bullet hole Culluh had left there, having shot her for no other reason than because he was a wicked man.

B’Elanna dropped by his side with what little medical supplies she had. She shooed Chakotay’s hands away to examine the wound herself. Peeling back the sticky wet shirt revealed that the situation was bad. _Really_ bad. The bullet was still lodged in the woman’s flesh and blood was flowing unchecked from the entry wound. B’Elanna suspected the bullet had nicked an artery and if it had, they were already working against borrowed time. 

Firstly the bullet had to come out; she had to see where the blood was coming from if she was ever to stop it. “Tom!” she yelled through the tiny home. “I need you here now!”

Her husband’s form eventually appeared in the doorway. His hands settled on either side of his hips where two pearl-handled revolvers now sat strapped around his waist. He glared at the Chief, practically daring him to make a move. But Chakotay’s full attention was on Kathryn. 

“Put your little toys away and help me. I need to get the bullet out and repair an artery,” B’Elanna barked at her husband. 

“We don’t help outlaws, B’Elanna,” he grumbled, trying to regain control of the situation.

His wife snorted in response. This was not the first time she had removed a bullet nor bandaged a wound caused by one. She had patched up plenty of men hiding out at their humble, struggling ranch. It was the price she paid for marrying a man with a shady past. “God damn it, Thomas Eugene Paris, if this woman dies because you’re too much of a stubborn ass to help me, I swear to the God Almighty I’ll leave you and this barren shit of a waste you call a ranch.”

Tom stared at the floor; this was not a fight he was going to win. He had known she had both a mouth and a temper when he’d married her. But this level of aggression had him hanging his head in silent defeat. “What do you need me to do?” he asked, real quiet like, pulling his hands away from the guns and folding his arms across himself.

“Damn, Paris, you were a field medic in the war. Once I remove the bullet, help me repair the artery.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he answered quietly, preparing a needle and thread with precision before moving to the opposite side of the bed. 

“Chakotay, you’ll need to hold down her arms while I fish out the bullet. It’s in there deep,” she instructed him. Chakotay nodded, placing his hands on Kathryn’s biceps while Tom helped pin down her legs. The room took a collective breath, preparing for what would come next. 

B’Elanna nodded to the men then began. She buried her tools in the woman’s flesh, feeling around for the lead she knew lay inside. She knew she was racing against the clock, and she’d be damned if she was gonna lose this race.

=/\=

Kathryn’s world was black and empty, devoid of anything other than muffled voices echoing in the distance. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it was clear the voices were coming from three different speakers. One was feminine and sounded angry, another came from a male and was soft, but it was the third that caught her attention the most. It was deep and masculine and seemed strangely familiar, its soothing tones reminding her of being safe. It called to her like a siren’s song. She wanted to know where it was coming from; she _needed_ to know who was calling her. Was it the voice of her father or of her fiancé? Was this the end? Had death come for her already and she was to spend the rest of eternity in this limbo?

A pressure built around her arms and legs in the void and the voices silenced, leaving her utterly alone. The pressure was followed by a stinging in her chest that grew rapidly until it was an all-encompassing pain. The deep voice returned, growing clearer as the pain grew stronger. It whispered out her name through the darkness, as the pain pulled her from the void into a blinding, bright room. The sound of her own shrieking filled her ears as her mind burst forth into the present and took in the strangers hovering above her. 

Kathryn screamed and fought against the weight holding her down. The pain she felt in the emptiness had increased a thousandfold. It had turned into a white-hot agony that could only have been delivered by the Devil himself. Looking up, she saw a bronze-skinned man with a painted brow above her. His brown eyes were familiar but were swimming with fear.

The only things Kathryn could manage to do was cry, scream, and fight against what held her down. Her body was so consumed with the tortuous sensation, her lips couldn’t even form the words to plead for it to stop. Her chest felt like she had swallowed knives; her neck muscles tightened making it impossible to breathe. The weight holding her down seemed to threaten to break her arms and legs, while a burning was emitted from something moving around inside her. 

Tears streamed from her eyes. Her throat cracked from the pain of screaming.

“Hold on, she’s almost done,” the deep voice tried to comfort her. “Kathryn, she’s nearly got it."

The edges of Kathryn’s vision blurred and the pain dulled. The welcoming arms of the void were coming to collect her once more. To fade away and never return.

=/\=

B’Elanna was momentarily startled when the woman jerked from her unconsciousness, screaming out at B’Elanna’s search. The petite woman fought against the firm hands of the two men holding her down.

“Hold on, she’s almost done,” B’Elanna heard Chakotay say, trying to comfort her. “Kathryn, she’s nearly got it.” 

The truth was, she did not. Every time B’Elanna thought she’d got ahold of the metal bullet, the struggling protest of the woman’s body forced it to slip away. She felt Chakotay eye her nervously. This was taking longer than she wanted. She knew she could fix this with time, but time was the one thing the woman didn’t have.

“Come on B’E,” Tom whispered from the opposite side of the bed. 

It was so close; _she_ was so close to getting it. Suddenly the woman went limp on the cot. B’Elanna’s heart sank and she flashed a quick look at Chakotay. He moved his hand to feel for her breath. It was faint, but it was there. Kathryn was still alive. She’d blacked out once more, but was still fighting to live. 

"Got ya!” B’Elanna exclaimed, her tools finally able to get a hold of the elusive bullet.

She pulled the object free and examined it for a moment. The bullet had not fractured; she had gotten it all. With a satisfied smile, B’Elanna dropped the metal onto a table, relieved to have found it and finally pulled it free. 

But that was only half the battle. It was now Tom’s turn to work. He had had much more experience with this than B’Elanna, and she watched as he grabbed up the needle and thread to repair the damage. He worked quickly, his hands moving with a grace and confidence she hadn’t seen in them in a long time. Perhaps the jittery hands he tried to hide from her were just a product of his own self-worth. 

Chakotay lessened his grip on Kathryn’s arms, sitting back to watch Tom work. Minutes seemed to turn to centuries in those precious moments. Time felt infinite as he glanced down at Kathryn’s pale face, blood smeared across her forehead, her once-rosy lips now tinted blue. He tentatively rested a hand on her auburn head, closing his eyes to say a silent prayer to the spirits to let her live. 

_They had to let her live._

"Alright, that’s it,” Tom huffed, setting down his tools, the quiver returning to his hand. B’Elanna began to clean and dress the wound. 

“Thank you, B’Elanna,” Chakotay said quietly. She had done him a great favor; without her, Kathryn would have certainly died in Chakotay’s desperate attempts to find help elsewhere. He was indebted to B’Elanna, and it was a debt he knew he could never truly repay.

“Go get cleaned up; there is nothing more you can do for her,” she replied, but Chakotay didn’t budge. “Go, I’ve got her,” she reassured him. He wanted to protest but knew it would go nowhere. Pulling himself from Kathryn was like pulling against a stubborn mule, each step a struggle. He made it as far as the next room before collapsing under the weight of guilt at the kitchen table. 

Chakotay held his head in his hands, staring down at the bare wood floor. A sickening tightness formed in his belly and he felt that he might expel the contents of his stomach. This was his fault; the whole thing was his God damn fault. His pride and anger had nearly killed an innocent person. Hell, Kathryn may still die yet. Chakotay hadn’t even been able to control himself when they had called him Red. But not Kathryn; she had been level headed in the face of the Kazon gang, and she had remained unfazed as Culluh’s hands invaded her body, touching her in ways he did not deserve to. Chakotay squeezed his eyes shut in shame as he recalled how he had spat at Cullah, incurring the Kazon’s wrath which he turned on Kathryn.

“Care to explain?” Tom asked, entering the room. He wiped the blood from his hands and sat opposite Chakotay at the table. 

“It’s not whatever you’re thinking,” he answered, exhaustion taking its hold on the parts of him not stricken with guilt and anger.

“And what am I thinking, Chief? That woman in there, is either blessed by the Almighty or is laying with the Devil to still be alive.”

“I wouldn’t call being shot a blessing,” he uttered. 

“So, she’s the Devil kind,” Tom snorted. “Sure know how to pick ’em, Chief.”

Chakotay slammed his fists down on the table, imprinting two bloody marks into the wood, meeting Tom’s blue eyes. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Kathryn is a good person. But I’m sure to _you_ , the only good person is the one buying you your next drink,” he spat, his anger flaring out of control. 

Tom’s gaze shifted to his hands in his lap. Chakotay wasn’t entirely wrong; he did enjoy a drink, and he had enjoyed drinking a lot when last they had seen each other. Back then, Tom had lived for the here and now — drink today, gone tomorrow. Problem was, he had a big mouth, and the more he drank, the louder and more obnoxious it became. 

In his last drunken stupor, Tom had started a brawl in a dangerous saloon that had ended with a knife in their friend’s belly. Mike Ayala had died defending Tom and Chakotay. He died in place of them, he was dead because of Tom. 

“I’m riding with _her_ , back to Wyoming,” Chakotay explained with less heat and more regret. Tom flashed him a quizzical look. “She’s gonna turn me in and collect the bounty.” He leaned back, wiping from his brow the sweat he hadn’t noticed before.

“And y’all split it up the middle, once she breaks you out, I reckon,” Tom remarked.

Chakotay shook his head. “No. Kathryn Janeway caught up with me in Carson City. She was going to use the money to start fresh in San Francisco as a school teacher. We were riding through when the Kazon…” Chakotay grew quiet. “She took that bullet protecting me.” 

“She took a bullet for you?” Tom was genuinely surprised. “If I know nothing more than that, I’d say she’s already too good for you.”

“You don’t think I know that? I know what I’ve done and I’m willing to pay for it. Just remember your hands ain’t clean neither, so don’t you go looking down on me,” he growled. 

"Shut up, the both of ya,” B’Elanna hissed, entering the room cleaning her hands with her apron. Chakotay’s friend needed rest, and it wouldn’t help her to be disturbed by the bad blood of the prideful men sitting in B’Elanna’s kitchen. “Chakotay, that woman has lost a lot of blood. There’s nothing more we can do. We’ll just have to wait and see _if_ she recovers.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know,” she laid a hand on one of his. “If she doesn’t get an infection in the next few days, then she’ll have a fightin’ chance. It is entirely up to her body and God at this point. The Doc may know more, but he ain’t in the business of making house calls. Not after the last time.” Her brows rose, creating deep crease lines in her forehead. 

“Maybe I can talk to him,” Chakotay thought out loud. “Seska’s not here, maybe—”

“—You’re a wanted man, Chief. You go flashing your face around town, and I guarantee you don’t make it back here,” Tom interrupted. “You may be wanted in Wyoming, but everybody knows you and Seska used to hide here. The town is crawling with new faces lookin’ for y’all."

They heard the back porch screen open and in walked a dust-covered Asian man with two dead chickens in hand. He was of medium build and height and wore a faded yellow shirt with dark grey trousers. His hair was long and pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his skull beneath a shabby brown hat. His slanted eyes took in the room, suspicious of the new arrival and the collective concern of everyone in the kitchen. 

“Who’s this?” Chakotay asked, studying the foreign man.

“This is Harry Kim; he helps out around here,” Tom said. Harry placed the chickens that B’Elanna had asked for earlier on the table and gave a slight bow to Chakotay.

“Yes, we took in a Chinaman,” B’Elanna mockingly huffed, grabbing the dead birds to prepare for supper.

“I told you, I am an American,” Harry protested, speaking clearly, without the accent that Chakotay expected him to have. B’Elanna flashed a quick smile and gave him a wink, clearly teasing.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kim.” Chakotay held out his hand then noticed it was covered in blood — _her_ blood.

Understandably, Harry did not shake it.

“Go get washed up. You can wear one of Tom’s shirts,” the lady of the house instructed. Tom looked to his wife ready to protest then thought better of it.

Tom responded with a “Yes ma’am,” and left to find an old garment.

=/\=

Kathryn’s heavy eyelids fluttered open, emerging from the void once more into alien surroundings. She was disoriented, as she had no recollection of how she had gotten to this room. Her head throbbed and her lungs burned in the struggle for breath, but at least her struggles told her she was still alive.

She spotted Chakotay in a chair next to where she lay. He was wearing a shirt that was too small for his frame, and his pants were stained red. His hands rested in his lap while his head fell along the wall behind him. He looked uncomfortable, his brow furrowed as if he were caught in a bad dream. Kathryn lifted her arm — an instant mistake, as pain shot through her chest. The startling sensation took her breath away, but she pushed through the pain to place a shaky hand on his thigh.

The slight pressure jolted Chakotay awake. It took him a moment but when he realized it was Kathryn, and that she was awake, his heart jumped. Carefully scooping up her hand in both of his, he drew in close. His normally clear brown eyes were bloodshot and he looked weary, but his familiar dimples put her at ease.

The memories came to her slowly. She remembered pain, and being shot, and being held down while more pain both woke her up then shoved her back down into blackness. She had been shot by Culluh, and outnumbered by a gang of Kazon, but Chakotay had gotten them out alive.

“How do you feel?” he asked, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead, feeling for a fever. So much tenderness from a man who really had no reason to show her any. 

“Thirsty,” her voice cracked with its dryness. How long had it been since she had felt water’s soothing wetness? Chakotay gently lifted her head, helping her sip from a water cup he had close by. Kathryn choked down as much as she dared before Chakotay returned her head to the pillow. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere safe,” he said softly.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her eyes closing slowly.

“For what?” He brushed a stray hair from her face.

“For not leaving me.”

“I would never leave my Captain,” he whispered. Kathryn smiled her lopsided grin briefly before falling unconscious once more, knowing that Chakotay, the person behind the safe soothing voice, was diligently watching over her like a guardian angel.

=/\=

It took three days for Kathryn to draw the strength to stay alert long enough to eat, and another two before she could attempt to get out of the cot. She was frustrated at her slow progress, wanting to start riding as soon as possible, and to store this bad memory away with the rest of them to hopefully be forgotten one day.

Through it all, Chakotay was at Kathryn’s side day and night, like a well-trained sheepdog. Fetching her food and drink, keeping her company, even going so far as to help her to the outhouse. She was grateful for his assistance, but was ultimately conflicted knowing she was still escorting him to jail for _her_ own benefit. Why did he have to be so kind? Why did his helping touch have to be so delicate? Why couldn’t he just be the hardened outlaw from the wanted posters? 

The more time they spent together, the more she felt herself depending on him, craving his presence, after so long of being alone. She was slowly growing attached, which was the one thing she had promised herself never to do again after Justin’s death. It made the job she had to do all the harder, guilt eating at her with each passing day.

When Kathryn was able to stand under her own power, she was given one of B’Elanna’s green dresses to wear. Kathryn hadn’t worn a dress in a long time and didn’t think it suited her, but it was greatly preferred over her own blood-soaked clothes. She didn’t fail to notice Chakotay’s expression when she appeared in it from the back room with B’Elanna’s help. His eyes widened and his lips pulled upward until dimples emerged on either side of his face, making Kathryn blush from the attention.

B’Elanna was so gracious for letting her stay and for saving her life, but Kathryn was sure that their presence was dangerous for the young couple. Should a gang of Kazon ever stop by ... That and the fact that Tom Paris, B’Elanna’s husband, did not seem to like them being there in the first place. He made himself scarce, said very little, and all around secluded himself from the house whenever she and Chakotay emerged in the common areas. All the more reason why she felt leaving sooner would be better for everyone.

While Tom seemed like a ghost, Mr. Kim on the other hand, a well-spoken Chinaman whose fluency in English greatly surpassed that of most of those in her hometown in Indiana, seemed to be everywhere. The young man was sweet and kind, and he practically jumped to his feet whenever Kathryn appeared, offering to help her at any time that Chakotay was not attached to her side. If Kathryn didn’t know better, she’d suspect that young Harry Kim had developed a little crush on her.

That morning after breakfast, and after Tom made his swift exit, Kathryn decided to broach the subject of moving on soon. She wasn’t fully recovered, her arms and legs still weak from the blood loss, but she felt they had lingered long enough and now was a good as time as any. 

Kathryn’s hand was firmly closed around a hot cup of coffee, her eyes fixed on the black liquid within. “I think we should be moving on tomorrow,” she informed Chakotay, staring at the mug. Harry, who was helping B’Elanna clear away the table, threw a distinct disappointed look in her direction. 

Mrs. Paris dropped a pan on the table, startling everyone. “No,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I thank you for your hospitality, but we have been here too long. I’m sure your husband would welcome our hasty departure, any how,” Kathryn explained. 

“I don’t give a damn what my husband welcomes,” B’Elanna huffed, folding her arms firmly across herself. “You’re not well enough to travel, and if you’re going to waste the medical supplies I used to keep you alive, then _I’d_ welcome you replacing them. Seeing how it was a waste to use them on you if you’re just gonna die out there anyway.” Though she had a hard way about her, Kathryn liked Mrs. Paris immensely. B’Elanna was a no-nonsense gal who demanded attention. Kathryn saw a lot of herself in the younger woman. 

But Kathryn was not one to back down from a bully, even one she admired. “Point me in the direction of the nearest town, and I’ll be glad to restock your supplies,” she said, pulling out her icy glare for emphasis.

“But you can’t go,” Harry quietly pleaded. 

“Kathryn, I gave you my word that I’d go to Wyoming with you. Ain’t make no bit of difference if we wait another week,” Chakotay interrupted. He covered her hand with his on the table briefly before she pulled away. The action did not go unnoticed by the occupants of the room. 

“I’m gonna see to my horses.” Kathryn stood shakily, exiting out the back door. 

She found her way to the Paris’ barn, slipping inside. Molly, her painted mustang, was lazily eating oats in one of the stalls, as was her brown mare. Molly was her favorite. She had been a wedding gift from Kathryn’s fiancé just before he died. Molly had given Kathryn a reason to get out of bed after his death. Given her a reason to stay alive when she’d believed there was no point. Kathryn ducked into the stall and patted Molly’s neck, noticing the braids in her mane that someone had carefully plaited in. Molly had also been washed clean of Kathryn’s blood. 

“Someone did a good job giving you a bath and braiding your hair,” she said to the horse. “Too bad I couldn’t get a bath; I think they treated you better than they did me.”

“If you’re interested, I could get you some water,” Harry said, startling her. She had thought she was alone, but young Harry was everywhere on this ranch. She rested a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

“Oh no, Mr. Kim, I don’t want you to trouble yourself.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze before returning to Molly.

“It’s no trouble ma’am,” he said eagerly.

“‘Ma’am’ will do in a crunch, but I prefer Kathryn.” She smiled. “It was just wishful thinking on my part. Please go on with your normal chores.” Harry nodded his understanding, but discouragement hung fresh on his features as skulked off, passing B’Elanna. 

B’Elanna knew the look of rejection well, especially in the eyes of her ranch hand. Harry always aimed a little too high with his love interests. 

“Did he just offer to bathe you?” B’Elanna chuckled, slinging a bridle over her shoulder.

“He’s a sweet kid.” Kathryn smiled.

“He’s a hopeless romantic,” she chuckled. “Listen, for whatever reason, I like you. I mean it when I said you won’t last long on your journey. And Tom won’t admit it, but we could use the help around here.”

“Your husband don’t like that I’m here.”

“He’s working through his own demons. Chakotay’s presence reminds him of things he’d rather forget, that’s all,” B’Elanna explained, easing the bit into one of her horses’ mouths. I’m headed to town if you’re interested in repaying me for the supplies. We could have a real doctor look at your arm.” She smiled. 

“I’m not too fond of doctors,” Kathryn answered truthfully. 

“And this doctor ain’t too fond of people. You two should get on just fine.”

=/\=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank ya'll for reading! I adore Comments and Kudo, they are 'Black coffee' that fuels my soul to keep writing. :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The town of Delta attracts all sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks goes to Chakochick for the Beta. YOU. ARE. THE. BEST!!!
> 
> I don't own Star Trek...( _but wouldn't that be cool if i did!_ )  
> All I get is your enjoyment <3

He was a medically trained professional, top of his class, and studied under the great Dr. Zimmerman. He was so meticulous in his studies he could pass for his mentor’s double, professionally anyway. He could cure any number of ailments, he read fluent german and latin medical texts, and had pulled bullets out of every lawman that came his way; but could anyone in this backwater town remember his name, let alone realize that he too was a human being? No. The ‘Doc’, as he was referred to, was only ever called upon when they were in need of his medical expertise, and nothing more. They treated him like a well-oiled machine, seen and used for his designated task then forgotten until the next time he becomes useful. He would have most certainly enjoyed a town dance or a barn-raising as much as the next dirt-covered cowboy, but the town’s folk generally left him alone. 

Today, the Doctor read through the latest in medical journals to be published out of Boston. He grumbled seeing as they had failed to publish any one of his works, yet again. _‘Don’t those fools know I’m on the cutting edge of frontier medicine,’_ he thought ripping through the pages. Clearly his former colleagues did not agree that frontier medicine was a worthy endeavor, as he read over the list of publishers, all of whom worked in hospitals in great cities around the world: New York, London, Boston, hell even one from San Francisco. 

The city of Delta was no such glory, to the rest of the world, it might as well be as far away as the moon and stars. But the Doctor felt obligated to set up his practice when he discovered the town had no physician to speak of nor even an apothecary. He believed the west wouldn’t be won with guns and violence but with educated men and women determined to build a future. But in 3 years he had yet to meet any such decent folks. 

A ringing bell above his office’s door announced the arrival of a new patient. He tossed the journal aside without care, observing the two women walking in. One he knew as Mrs. B’Elanna Paris, a hotheaded woman that bought a suspiciously large amount of medical supplies from him every now and then. She hadn’t been by in several months, leaving the Doctor to speculate that either her patient was on the mend or dead. The Doc made the mistake of inquiring as to the nature of the injuries the supplies were for; it resulted in quite the ferocious threat, of which he was sure she’d be able to follow through with. After that, he decided it best to leave well enough alone. 

The woman that followed Mrs. Paris, however, he had not seen before. She was a fair-skinned lady with auburn hair. Though her complexion was delicate, she appeared pale to him. He noted that Mrs. Paris looked out of sorts from the last time she was in as well, but thought better than to point that fact out. A doctor's visual inspection and intuition went a long way in treating feebleminded patients of the west. 

“Good Day to you ladies. Do you have a medical emergency?” he greeted from behind his desk. 

“Nothing quite so dire Doc,” B’Elanna replied, closing the door behind them. “Some medical supplies and a quick exam should be fine.”

“Alright, whom and what am I examining first?” he rose to his feet, placing a thick set of circular spectacles on his face. 

“Ms. Janeway's shoulder should be looked over,” B’Elanna said nudging Kathryn forward with a hand on her back. 

“Alright right, please come through to the back and have a seat on the table. Remove your clothing around the discomforting area and I shall have a look,” he instructed leading the way. He ducked through the short doorway and Kathryn reluctantly followed the bald-headed doctor. The back room was not unlike the one in which the Paris’ had her stay, in terms of size. The exam room was just large enough for the doctor’s needs. It had half a dozen windows on all sides, with translucent material covering the glass allowing for light to come in while blocking the view from any unwanted eyes. 

Kathryn sat atop the waist height table then pulled the material of B’Elanna’s borrowed dress out of the way of her bandaged shoulder. The doctor threw on an apron and a pair of sleeve coverings to protect his crisp blue shirt from what might potentially ooze out of the woman. He turned to her then carefully pulled back the bandage. Kathryn watched as the doctor’s face contorted between shock and awe upon discovering the patched together flesh of a bullet wound underneath the dressings. 

“Ms. Janeway are you aware that you have been shot?” he asked, now understanding why the woman appeared so anemic; she must have lost a considerable amount of blood and recently. The Doc then began a rougher examination of the area, of which Kathryn did not care for. He grabbed the tender skin turning it this way and that, studying it in the light from the windows. 

"Well that certainly would explain the gaping hole in my chest," Kathryn hissed to his touch. The doctor ignored her protest and continued his examination.

"We removed the bullet Doc and Tom repaired the artery," B'Elanna explained, taking a seat in an empty chair in the room. 

The doctor rolled his eyes, his look morphing into that of annoyance. "Please inform your husband that though we all appreciate his service in the war, he is not a medically trained physician. You should have brought her to me."

"There wasn't time, besides she seems alright now," B'Elanna winked at Kathryn but the Doc was not amused. 

“Well Ms. Janeway, consider yourself very lucky that Mr. Paris didn’t kill you quicker,” he remarked, releasing his hold on her shoulder. “Any stiffness in the neck or jaw? Can you swallow normally?” he asked. There was no discoloration to suggest infection, but it never hurt to be thorough.

“It’s sore, but that’s all,” Kathryn answered. 

“Very good.” He moved over to a glass cabinet filled with jars in varying shapes and sizes. The doctor pulled out a small brown bottle that he then handed to Kathryn. “This is Iodine Ms. Janeway; each time you change the dressing, clean the area with _boiled water_ , then place this around the area before covering with a fresh bandage. Iodine is a-”

“-A stable halogen that is a non-metallic solid originally thought to have been used by the Chinese in ancient times but has since been developed by French chemists.” Kathryn finished for him, looking at the bottle. 

"Forgive me, madam, I didn't realize you were a student of the medical field," he beamed a rare genuine smile at her. So long he had gone without the slightest nugget of intellectual conversation, and now, out of nowhere walks in a woman that not only knows what Iodine is but its history. Who was this Ms. Janeway and why would anyone shoot such an intelligent creature? 

“Nothing of the kind, is that your only logical conclusion for a woman to know anything?” she grumbled returning the clothing to her shoulder. 

“Certainly not," he answered, offended that he now had to defend himself. "It is not often that I treat anyone that can spell their name let alone recite the chemical properties of Iodine. You'll forgive me if I'm just a bit surprised."

"You could keep an open mind Doc, and not be so quick to judge in the future. I enjoy reading topics regarding the sciences. I will focus on it heavily when I teach,” she explained, pocketing the bottle and sliding off the table. “How much do I owe you Doc?”

"That will be eight dollars for the Iodine-"

"-Eight dollars! You have to be joking?" Kathryn blurted. 

"Well if you don't suppose your life is worth that much, I’ll just take back the bottle." He frowned, pulling his glasses from his face and placing them in his shirt pocket. 

"No need to get your britches in a bunch, I'm good for it. But this here is robbery Doc," Kathryn grumbled looking for her coin purse. 

"Medical supplies are hard to come by; that being said I’m afraid I have nothing else to sell, as far as bandages and such,” he turned to address B’Elanna. “A posse set out looking for some Kazon a while back, but all they managed to do was to get shot themselves. I am still waiting on the supply wagon to roll in any day now. You might try the general store for the rest of your needs ladies."

"Will do," Kathryn answered slapping the money into the doctor's hand, to which he flinched at stinging contact. "Thanks Doc." Kathryn ducked back into the front expecting B'Elanna to follow, but when she reached the front door Kathryn was alone. 

"You go on ahead, I need to have a word with Doc," B'Elanna hollered from the back. "I'll meet you at the wagon." 

"All right," Kathryn acknowledged before exiting Doc's office. B’Elanna could talk with the Doc as long as she wanted but Kathryn surely wasn’t going to linger in a place that reminded her of one of the worst days of her life. A day her life was changed forever, the day her father and fiancé were both pronounced dead. She spotted a sign that read _'Sikaris General Store'_ on the other end of the street and made her way towards it. Creating as much distance between her and the overpriced doctor. With any luck, Kathryn had enough coin left to buy a new outfit along with the supplies promised to B’Elanna. She’d hate to spend the rest of the journey in this impractical dress. 

Kathryn crossed the threshold of the store and was bombarded with, what could only be assumed as, organized chaos. The shop was filled to the brim with crates of goods on the shelves, sacks of potatoes, onions, and carrots lined every nook and cranny on the floor, all while colorful fabrics hung down from the rafters. The clerk instantly greeted her with enthusiasm from behind a large counter covered in glass jars filled with sweets. He was already waiting on a pair of gentlemen when he called out with a thick peculiar accent, “good day, fraulein!”

“Good day,” she replied pulling up beside the two men at the counter. Kathryn flashed a smile and a nod to the pair. One was a tall colored fella, with stoic features and misshapen ears. He glanced in her direction, tipped his hat in greeting, but did not smile. His comrade on the other hand, a much shorter gentleman, was nothing but a smile. His face was wrinkled at the edges of his forehead with sunspots framing his face. His head was shaved on either side while a mane of blond hair ran down the center. His patched together fur coat was bizarre but oddly fit the chaotic energy of the shop he greeted her in. 

“Give me one moment mademoiselle, while I finish with these two men,” the clerk smiled at her. 

“Of course, I’ll just have a look around then,” Kathryn shifted away, taking in one small piece of the shop at a time. She slowly worked her way around until the men had finished and left, the shorter of the two giggling with nerves as he passed by. 

“How may I be of service to you fraulein?” the clerk asked circling the counter. 

“I am looking to buy some medicine and bandages for a fair price. I was told I might find that here,” she looked up to him. 

“Oui, of course. It would be my pleasure to sell to you these things,” he answered. He held a hand to his chest and gave a slight bow as he spoke. The clerk was thin with pepper dark hair slicked back from his face. His facial features would be considered attractive for her if another face wasn't currently occupying her thoughts. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Kathryn replied. “I would also like slacks, shirt, jacket, and a hat _if_ it all came out the right price.”

“Oui, of course, of course. I have some of the best prices in all of the Nevada territory." He gestured for her to follow him to one corner of the shop filled with layers of carefully folded clothing. "Which size is best for your husband fraulein?" 

"Roughly my size will do," she answered.

"Ma chérie, you are much too beautiful to adorn yourself with such beastly garments," he frowned. "I have a dress. You will like. It is made of the softest silks that you never thought to have existed. It will make you glow as one of God’s favored angels."

"No thank you, just the pants and jacket," Kathryn responded not amused by his attempts to flirt with her. 

"Nein, nein, once you see it I know you will be in love," he dismissing her, searching the piles.

"Listen here buddy, I ain't buying no dress. Now if you want my money then you'll better start listening to me," Kathryn commanded throwing in a chilling glare. 

"As you wish fraulein."

=/\=

Nearly three weeks ago Chakotay didn’t even know Kathryn’s name, but now he couldn’t remember how he had survived without her. His mind was consumed in thinking about her needs, which in turn gave him the peace he sorely lacked in his life. Chakotay stayed by Kathryn’s side night and day, helping her with the burden of recovery. But he wanted to do more, he _had_ to do more; his life, for whatever it was worth, was now hers. He had been called the Angry Warrior amongst his people, and Chief by the white man; but to Kathryn, he was just Chakotay, and that pleased him to no end.

Chakotay anxiously waited around the ranch as B’Elanna and Kathryn had gone into town. It physically hurt being away from Kathryn knowing if there was trouble there would be nothing he could do. He also knew if he had gone with them, his presence would no doubt be the cause of trouble; being a wanted man and all. He brushed out the coat of the brown mare he’d been riding, braiding her main in the same fashion as he had the painted mustang’s. Once finished, he wandered out of the barn to find Mr. Kim digging holes for new posts for the sheep’s pen outside. 

Mr. Kim worked hard in the sun, his sweat-drenched shirt and callused hands were evidence of his determination to finish the task. “Mr. Kim, would you like a hand?” Chakotay asked, strolling over to him.

Mr. Kim paused, plunging the shovel into the dirt to keep upright while he took a drink of water from the canteen slung around a post. After a few pulls of liquid, he smiled back, “Mighty appreciated, Mr. Chakotay. Certainly would hasten the task I reckon. Just one thing.”

“What’s that?” Chakotay asked, beginning to roll up his sleeves to Tom’s tight shirt. 

“Call me Harry,” he grinned from ear to ear. Chakotay chuckled picking up the shovel, continuing to dig where Harry had left off.

On the ground there lay 20 wood posts or more along the shabby fence. With any luck, the task would take them all day, or at least up until Kathryn and B’Elanna returned.

=/\=

Kathryn waited for B'Elanna at the wagon as planned, she haggled with the shop clerk for quite some time before agreeing to purchase all that she needed with the rest of the money she had. She'd be living off the land from here to Wyoming, lucky for her she was a good shot.

Kathryn watched people roam up and down the dusty street and spotted the men from earlier in the shop. The shorter one led the march, he looked to be a man on a mission by the way his arms pumped as he scurried along. His tall companion followed easily behind. She watched as they marched into the saloon with a rather busty blond welcoming them inside. Kathryn may be out of coin, but she was grateful that she wasn't forced to resort to that kind of work, not yet anyway.

After a short while, B'Elanna joined her at the wagon. "Well, ya find whatcha looking for at the shop?" B'Elanna asked. 

"Yeah, but I need to bathe after dealing with that greasy shopkeeper." Kathryn shuttered at the thought of him. 

"He is pretty bad," B'Elanna laughed. "If yer interested I know of some hot springs on the way back to the ranch."

Kathryn perked up. The only bath she had known since leaving home was that of a frigid river. A hot bath was a luxury she thought she wouldn't have until she got settled in San Francisco. B'Elanna could see the excitement in Kathryn's eyes. "Well I'm going to be a while if you like to head back and find them, I'll be alright." 

"Well if you insist," Kathryn smiled.

=/\=

Kathryn tied off her horse and grabbed the clothes she had bought in town. “I’m sorry girl, I’m not strong enough to get the saddle back up if I take it off. Hope this can make up for it,” Kathryn pulled a cube of sugar from her pocket, holding it out for Molly. The horse ate it with great enthusiasm, nudging Kathryn’s hand in search of more. Kathryn smiled pulling another cube out.

Kathryn patted Molly once more then started up the rocky path to the hot springs that B’Elanna had told her about. By the powers at be, she found the bubbling waters behind a large rock face, which made the area private and out of sight from the path. She eagerly disrobed, placing the clothes high on a rock to keep them from getting wet or from looking too appealing for slithering critters. The cool breeze puckered her skin with goosebumps as she made her way over to the water.

With one hand steadying herself on a rock, Kathryn eased a foot into the natural hot spring. The water was hot, but not so much so that she couldn’t handle it. Lowering herself further she slowly submerged into the warmth of the liquid, careful to keep her still healing wound dry. She shivered as the heat of the water filled her, flowing over her bare skin, warming her down to the bone. She closed her eyes, resting her head and injured shoulder along the rocky edge, the warmth quickly soothing her muscles. The water had a strong scent of sulfur, but she did not mind, just as long as the water remained warm she could lie here forever.

=/\=

Chakotay held the wooden post steady this time while Harry filled in the hole. They had put in a hard day’s work and were nearly done with the task when the sun turned a deep orange as it began to lower in the sky. Fixing the fence posts was just one of the many neglected tasks from Harry’s ever-growing to-do list. It was his job as ranch hand, but he was only one man. Harry hoped that Kathryn would choose to stay for a bit because she was a beauty, and Chakotay was a great help. Another week or two and Harry might actually stand a chance to get caught up with his work.

B’Elanna returned riding by with a freshly supplied cart of food, and Chakotay nearly dropped the post on Harry’s foot when he noticed Kathryn was not with her. 

“Where’s Kathryn?” Chakotay asked, rushing over to the wagon. 

“I told her about the hot springs. Is she not back yet?” B’Elanna answered, desperately trying to keep her expression neutral for Chakotay’s sake. They parted ways hours ago and she fully expected Kathryn to make it back before her. Kathryn was a smart woman but the path to the hot springs was rocky and the Doc did mention rumor of Kazon. 

“We haven’t seen her. You don’t reckon something happened to her?” Harry asked nervously. He set down his shovel, coming over to the wagon as well. 

“When did she go?” Chakotay scowled at B’Elanna. 

“I don’t recall,” she averted his eyes. “Might have been a few hours… or perhaps before noon.”

“So she’s been gone nearly all day? Kathryn hasn’t fully recovered,” anger flashed across Chakotay’s face. “I can’t believe you left her alone out there B’Elanna.”

“Don’t point that anger at me Chakotay,” she matched his intensity. “Kathryn is a grown woman, you’d do right to remember that. She can look after herself.”

Chakotay marched towards the barn; he was done arguing. Kathryn was a woman who could look after herself, he just feared that _that_ independent nature would get her hurt or killed. She was alone, she was injured, and she was the woman that he owed his life too. He threw open the barn doors and readied Kathryn’s brown mare with a bridle and a blanket before jumping on. Chakotay couldn’t waste time with a saddle if she were in trouble; yet again, time was of the essence to save her. Without regard of being recognized as he rode closer to town, Chakotay shot the horse in the direction of the hot springs. 

He may be overreacting to the whole thing, but Chakotay was not willing to take that gamble if there was any chance that he wasn’t. He would not gamble with Kathryn's life.

=/\=

Chakotay spotted Kathryn’s painted horse and tied his own next to hers. The path to the hot springs was narrow and rocky. One could easily slip and break an ankle if not careful, and she was in a weakened state already. The sun was growing lower and he worried what he would do if he didn't find her before it set.

Chakotay studied the ground for tracks, hard to do with all the rocks and setting sun, but the scent of sulfur grew stronger and he knew he was getting close. Chakotay rounded a rock face and his heart stopped cold when the search was over. He spotted the back of Kathryn's head, it slumped over her shoulder, her body submerged in the water. He hurried over to her, cupping her face once he was in reach to check her consciousness.

Kathryn smiled at the touch, nuzzling into his hand. Her eyes drifted open gazing into Chakotay’s for a brief but intense moment. His beautiful brown eyes were like coffee, she drank in the sight of them right before reality crashed down on her. The reality that she was currently completely naked in a hot spring with a wanted outlaw looking down at her. 

The water was perfectly clear, if his eyes even flickered away from hers, Chakotay would have a view of everything God had gifted her. Chakotay must’ve realized this too, snapping his eyes shut but still held her cheek. 

“What are you doin’ here?” she asked turning to meet him straight on. 

“I’m sorry, you’ve been gone for hours. I got worried, then I saw you just lying there I thought-“ The air had cooled quickly in the dusk but he could feel the heat rise up in his cheeks. “It’s not- it's not good to be in there too long,” he fumbled over his own words. 

Kathryn smiled. Chakotay, a.k.a the Chief, the hardened-wanted-outlaw of Wyoming was embarrassed. Protecting her modesty along with her life. He was gentle and kind and caring beyond anyone she had known before. Kathryn wasn't sure at first but she needed no more evidence. She knew now that she was falling in love with him. 

“I know I ain’t given you much reason to trust me. First kidnapping you, then I go and get myself shot, but I assure you I am fine.” She placed one hand over his, the other reached up to cup his face too. His eyelids softened, opening one before the other to look at her. She pushed up out of the water landing a kiss across his strong lips. 

Kathryn pulled away, watching in wait for his reaction. His dark eyes locked on hers, his breathing deep.

“I knew you were trouble, woman,” he growled, wrapping an arm around Kathryn's middle and pulling her up for another, _deeper_ kiss.

=/\=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, let me know what ya'll think. I adore comment and kudos! Just when I think I might stop, your voices keep me motivated push through and write.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens at the Hot Springs stays at the Hot Springs!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is NSFW for my humble attempts at smut. If that is not your cup of coffee I understand and welcome any reader back at the start of the next chapter. 
> 
> Special Thanks goes to my amazing Beta readers: TheElephantinthePrideParade and Chakochick.

=/\=

Kathryn was, as tradition called for, going to wait until her wedding night to lay with a man. She imagined her husband would carry her across the threshold of their home, lay her down on the bed they would share, and spend their first night together in an aura of marital bliss. But tradition was swept clean away from her mind once Chakotay’s kiss had her parting her lips to his tongue, spurring a desire to part her thighs for his manhood as well. Kathryn had never been kissed with such passion, such desire before, and Chakotay's roaming tongue had her questioning why she ever wanted to turn him in for a bounty. Though she stood in chest high water, Chakotay still pulled her up to meet him with an arm around her middle and a hand to the nape of her neck. Kathryn's skin pimpled from the cool air, but she had never been more content than now, being held in his arms. 

Chakotay's clothes grew heavy and cold, dampened from Kathryn's wet body pressed into his, but he didn't care. He wanted her close. He wanted her closer than his own skin; to become one with this beautiful woman, if she'd allow it. When they parted for air, Chakotay lowered her back into the steaming waters. He sat back to admire the sight of her: pale skin, pink nipples, and luscious auburn hair. She was a desert beauty, an oasis, a gift from the spirits in the heavens. 

Keeping close to the rocky edge, Kathryn stared up at him running her tongue along her swollen lips, a beckoning call for him to join her. The hot spring she had found was certainly large enough for ten but she had no intention of keeping her distance from him. Her fingers were pruned and her flesh warm from sitting in the spring for hours, but she shivered from the loss of his contact. Chakotay needed no further instructions, she watched as he stripped down to nothing, revealing his bronze skin and toned muscles. He was beautiful, the sight of him sent liquid heat surging to her center. 

With damp clothes discarded, Chakotay eased into the waters next to her, cupping her face and pulling her to him for another round of kisses. He began at her lips but worked quickly along her jaw and down her neck, nibbling as he went. Kathryn brought her hands up to lay across his bare chest, easily melting into him as if she was sculpted to fit him perfectly. Chakotay’s rough hands travelled down her spine, settling themselves on the small of her back just above the curve of her ass. 

Kathryn pulled away for a moment to look up at him. His eyes were dark, no doubt mirroring her own. The hardness of his erection was pressing on her belly just beneath the water. Lord help her, she wanted this man. She wanted this man more than any other man she had seen before, but he had to know one thing first. "Chakotay," she began. "I may give off the impression of being a worldly woman but I've-I ain’t… what I mean to say is... I haven't been with-'' she blushed, down turning her face, embarrassed by the admission. 

Chakotay smiled to himself, Kathryn the independent woman, who was as tough as the land they rode, the woman that had caught him with a drink and a smile, who didn't shy away from a fight, who'd risked her life to protect his, was still at her core a delicate woman. Her cheeks pinked, and Chakotay marveled at the sight of this blushing virgin in his arms, it was much different from the hardened woman he’d come to know. In that moment Chakotay fell in love just a little bit more. Kathryn was allowing herself to be vulnerable with him, an act of trust that she was gifting to him. He felt honored that he had earned that from her. Chakotay cupped her blushing cheek and tilted her face to meet her beautiful blue eyes. "We ain’t got to go no further, Kathryn," he spoke softly without judgement. "You captured me both body and soul, my life is now yours to do with as you wish,” he added before kissing the edge of her forehead. 

"You're too good for this world Chakotay. You saved my life, when you had no reason to. I reckon that means you own a piece of me too," she kissed his chest then lay her head against it to hear the pounding of his heart as she wrapped her arms around his naked frame. They held each other in the fading light, neither willing to abandon the other. Chakotay rested his chin atop her head. If this was all Kathryn would allow, he would accept it willingly. 

"Chakotay?"

He hummed. 

"I wanna know what it's like. I wanna know how it feels to be wholly loved. I wanna know _your_ love."

Chakotay eased away, his thumb and fingers running along her jaw to gently tip her head up to meet his loving eyes once more. "I'd give you the stars if that's what you wanted." She smiled and nodded. "Shenandoah," he breathed, his dimples clear even in the fading light. 

"What?"

"That is what my spirit animal will know you as; Shenandoah, the beautiful daughter of the stars," he explained. 

"Shen-an-do-ah," Kathryn repeated, feeling the syllables as they were spoken. "I like that."

"I'm glad," he chuckled. His lips gravitated to hers again as his hands fell to her hips. With little encouragement Kathryn pushed up against him, closing the last bit of distance, pinning his hardness between them. Kathryn squirmed at the sensation against her belly. Chakotay tried to stifle a groan to her movements, but she heard his pleasure. She smiled against his lips, his animalistic sounds causing a throbbing need to build at her center. She rolled her body against his, earning herself another groan from the wanted man's throat.

In response, Chakotay reached down and grabbed her ass, a cheek in each strong hand. Pulling upward, he lifted her out of the water, spreading her thighs to either side of him, her center now resting along his length. Kathryn gasped in surprise and the sensation of her bundle of nerves now being teased by his manhood. She pressed her chest flat against his. The steam rose, cocooning them in the last bit of heat. 

Chakotay waded through the water and set her down on the smooth, rocky edge. They kissed passionately, tongues battling one another in attempts to bring the other closer. Chakotay cupped her left breast, kneading the flesh while teasing the nipple taut. His touch was nothing like when she had been grabbed and assulted by Cuhlluh. Chakotay’s hands worked out of tenderness and love, earning a moan of pleasure from her as the sensation drove her wild. The sound of her approval caused his cock to twitch. He worked from one breast to the other, his touch warming her more than the waters had a moment ago.

Chakotay slowed his feverish kisses to gentle pecking while asking, "You're sure you wanna lay with me Kathryn? I can stop now-" 

"-I want it to be you," she cut him off, arms wrapping around his neck. "I wanna know how it feels with you inside me." 

Spirits, that was the sexiest thing a woman had ever said to him, and all because he knew she meant it. It took everything Chakotay had to not plow deep within and let loose. His hand gripped the rock nearest her hip, his head dropped back, his eyes shutting tight for a moment to regain his senses. "You may be a virgin Kathryn but that mouth of yours ain't," he growled, smiling. "You ready?" Chakotay asked, bringing his eyes back to study Kathryn's face. Positioning himself at her entrance, but ready to back off at any sign of hesitation. 

Kathryn bit her lower lip and gave him a nod, unlacing her hands from him to place them on the rocks. Leaning back she braced herself to accept him inside. Her legs dangled in the hot waters, her skin was covered in goosebumps. She arched her back, pressing her chest towards him, ready to know what it's like to be loved. Once again she was a beautiful sight to see, her body and spirit opening to him in pure trust. Trust in the face of an act unknown to her. 

Chakotay probed her tight entrance, guiding himself in, pushing slowly, his eyes fixed on hers. He watched as Kathryn's face pinched with discomfort, but he continued to ease forward until he was all the way sheathed. Her eyes fell shut and she breathed through the new penetrating sensation. Chakotay stilled once his pelvic bone met hers, allowing time for her to adjust to him. 

The initial pain dulled as Kathryn’s body expanded to allow the new fullness she felt. Had it not just happened, Kathryn never would have thought all of him could fit. The fullness of him could only be described as a religious experience; if sex was a sin then the Devil had his hold on her. 

Chakotay watched as Kathryn's face relaxed. He kissed her neck running his teeth over her pulse while his fingers fanned out around her hips. Soon Kathryn's lips found the side of his own neck and Chakotay took this as a sign that she was ready for more. Slowly, he inched out and back in, letting her become familiar with the sensation of the movement. Her face pinched again, timing her breathing with his thrusts. Syncing the intake of air and him at the same time. "This alright?" He asked, leaning back to study her face as she concentrated.

"Oh yes," she breathed. 

Once again Kathryn's look of discomfort softened, signaling to him that she was ready for more. He extended his strokes while keeping to the same slow rhythm. Kathryn was so tight and felt so good around him, he had to fight the urge to pump faster to reach his own end, looming closer with every thrust. But the last thing Chakotay wanted to do was hurt her; she was not a one and done prostitute, he wanted to make love to her properly. To have this time, this coming together, branded on them both for the rest of time.

Kathryn whimpered when the strokes grew long enough for her to feel a loss just before being filled again. The steady rhythm brought with it a pressure that built low in her belly. Kathryn tried to ignore the sensation, focusing on Chakotay's movements, but with each stroke, the pressure in her muscles heightened becoming too much to ignore. She nearly told him to stop, his name ready on her lips, when the something inside her broke free like a dame of flooding water. His name erupted from her as a shriek, the vowels of his name echoed off the rocks. Her inner muscle tightened, clamping down on him. Pulses of lightning shot through her legs and up her torso. Kathryn's mouth fell open, eyes rolling into the back of her skull, her back arching even further into him. Chakotay supported her, continuing to pump lightly, slowly thrusting through the waves of her pleasure. 

Just when Chakotay thought Kathryn's muscles had loosened, a second force came crashing down around him, her walls milking for what he had yet to give. He watched her expression of ecstasy softened into bliss. Her blue eyes locked with his brown, her swollen lips were parted and panting for air. 

Finally, she came back to herself. "Is that what it's always like?" she asked in breathless awe. 

Chakotay chuckled. "It's the goal anyhow."

Feeling him still hard inside her, she furrowed her eyebrows, "Did you-have you spilled your seed I mean?" she asked tentatively, bringing her hands to run up and down his arms. 

"No. I don't have to for you to feel that. If you like, we can stop now," he answered, giving her a tender kiss. 

"But, I thought…" she frowned. 

He shook his head, with a dimpled smile to ease her worry, this time was not about him. "I can finish on my own, you must be tired," Chakotay said as he started to pull out of her. 

"No, wait," Kathryn's hand flew up to his shoulders to keep him in place. He halted fearing he had hurt her. "Chakotay, I wanna know what it's like-what _all_ of it's like." 

Chakotay looked unsure, this being her first time and her not being fully recovered from her injuries, he felt it best to end like this; with her experiencing bliss. She'd be sore enough tomorrow, but Kathryn's fingers danced along his neck, taking even more strength for him to keep a level head. Kathryn framed his face with her hands, silently asking him to continue, teasing him as her lower lip made its way between her teeth. 

He kissed her, pulling the taunting lip into his own mouth, running his hand along the outside of her legs. An idea formed in Chakotay's mind, one that would spare Kathryn any more soreness, and the possibility of a child, while still adhering to her request. “If you want to know what spilling my seed is like then there is another option," he pulled back just enough to speak. 

Kathryn quirked an eyebrow at him, she had no idea there was more than one way, but she trusted Chakotay and followed his lead in this matter. “I reckon you know best,” she conceded. 

Chakotay's hands slid to her inner thighs, keeping her parted so that he could slide out without resistance. His erection strung free from her heat, and the instant loss of him made her feel hollow. She wanted that sensation back, to feel full and connected to him again. She kept herself parted, waiting patiently for Chakotay to show her what to do next. 

Chakotay reached for Kathryn's wrist and guided her hand to his hardened shaft, free from her center and hovering just above the water. Kathryn closed her fingers around it with a sizable gap between her forefinger and thumb, shocked at the slickness that covered him, and once again amazed that just a moment ago it had been buried inside her.Chakotay's cock pulsed in her hand, her grip at his base. She watched on as he covered her hand with his, then began moving them up and down his flesh. 

Kathryn met his nearly black eyes, darkened with hunger and lust. “Yer gonna help me finish,” he growled. The command sent a shiver to course through Kathryn, the tingle taking root low in her belly. Their combined hands increased in speed and Chakotay's breath became more ragged with each pump. “Then you’ll see just how I spill my speed.” 

"You sure?" she asked, moving with him. Leaning forward on the rocks, aching for more contact. "Ain’t it better inside?”

Chakotay half chuckled half growled a response, “I thought you was a virgin Kathryn?”

“I have a younger sister, Lord help her, she likes to talk,” Kathryn answered, firming her grip around him and pulling a moan from his lips. 

Chakotay’s eyes closed and he threw back his head. He was so close to falling over the edge. “I’ma ’bout there.”

Kathryn wasn’t sure if she should watch him or his cock. His legs shook and the muscles in his abdomen tightened. “Oh Kathryn,” he howled. She glanced down in time to watch as a stream of his white seed burst out from the end of this erection. Erupting with abandon it landed on her stomach and ran down between her thighs. Kathryn’s eyes grew wide as her mouth fell open in fascination. His seed was hot and thick and greatly exceeded her expectations as far as volumes. Kathryn continued working him, his own grip falling away, losing himself in her touch, she wanted to see how much she could milk from him before he ran dry, starting at the base and working down to the tip until the life giving substance had been ejactulated. 

Once Chakotay had given everything he had, he softened in Kathryn’s grip. He lifted his head to take in the sight of her covered in his essence. It sent an aftershock through him that made his cock twitch in her hand, as though he could be ready again in a matter of moments. 

“Was that alright?” she asked in awe. 

“Spirits. It was more than all right,” he captured her lips and scooped her from the rock, submerging them both in the waters to wash clean. Kathryn's arms clung around his neck carefully keeping her wound dry. 

Chakotay's touch roamed her body freely, wiping away the part of him that he couldn't share with her as an outlaw. He'd gladly give up his freedom for her, go to jail for crimes in his other life. It would be difficult, but bearable knowing he was giving her a better future. He could not say he'd make the same choice if she became pregnant with his child. Another reason for him to hold back, to make this all about her. 

If he only got this one moment to be with her, it would be enough. But he was not willing to ruin her future for it. Tonight was for her, and every day he lived would be for her. She had a future, a life to start in San Francisco, he would not burden her with a child to raise on her own, but he was far from done with this night. 

Kathryn took in a sharp gasp when something - a finger - slid past her overly stimulated sex and Chakotay gave a wolfish grin against her lips as it happened again. "Just relax," he hushed, his pointer finger dipping between her folds. "You said you wanna know what it's all like, and I wanna be the one to show you."

=/\=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what ya'll think. I adore Comments and Kudos!! Thanks a million for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Vulcan and Mr. Neelix make for an odd couple, but Chakotay and Kathryn make a run for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're stuck at home, I hope this chapter helps transport you in imagination.
> 
> Once again must give thanks to my amazing Beta readers Chakochick and TheElephantinthePrideParade

The saloon they currently occupied was like any other that Tuvok had seen before it. Drones of men gathered at various tables to gamble their hard earned money away while they drank, smoked, chewed, and spit. The sight alone was distasteful enough, but added with barely clothed women throwing themselves at strangers hoping to earn money, made Tuvok wonder how these men could have ever believed themself to be a superior race to him and his kind. He found the whole gathering illogical, distasteful, a proverbial melting pot of corruption and disease by modern man. His companion Mr. Neelix, however, insisted that they needed to be there for his endeavors. 

Heads of slain beasts adorned the wood walls around the room. A giant stone hearth sat empty on one side of the room; on the opposite side was a long dark bar. Behind the bar was a mirror reflecting the room along with the copious amounts of dark liquor bottles stacked on the shelves in front of it. Even without a fire, the room was stifling from all the bodies within. Mr. Neelix shed his fur coat and vest. He tugged on his collar desperate to find relief from the warmth as he sweated from merely sitting still at the table. Neelix was much more acclimatized to the cold of the snowy mountains, where he spent the majority of the season hunting for animal furs, than in this smoky, overfilled saloon. 

Tuvok, on the other hand, was familiar with the heat, as it was nothing in comparison to the thick Georgia summers on the plantation on which he was raised. He took in every inch of the room, preparing for the inevitable fight that would erupt from so many crowded into one place. Tensions among the drunk were surely to flare and he predicted that at least two tables, that appeared to be games of poker, would have an accusation of cheating before the night was through. 

“Try to relax, Mr. Vulcan,” Neelix chuckled, noticing Tuvok’s raised eyebrow. Neelix rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to further cool himself as two ladies of the establishment sat down in the empty chairs to either side of him. 

“Howdy,” they said in unison giggling as one attended Neelix the other Tuvok. “I’m Jenny,” the one nears Tuvok spoke, “and I’m Megan,” said the other. “We are the Delaney sister,” repeated in unison then giggled once more. 

“I have no coin to waste on entertainment. You two do well to focus your efforts elsewhere,” Tuvok replied, not the least bit interested in the company they were offering. He resumed his study of the room. 

“Mr. Vulcan, that ain’t no way to speak to two lovely ladies such as them.” Neelix wagged a disapproving finger at him then flashed the girls each a toothy grin. The wrinkles around his forehead deepened, but the sunspots framing his face remaned oddly round. The discoloration around his face continued along his visible forearms. 

“What brings ya’ll to Delta?” Jenny asked. 

“Well my dears, you see I am on a rescue mission. A young girl was kidnapped by the most despicable lowlife brutes,” Neelix explained. His head bobbed from side to side as he spoke to both of them. “She was taken by a gang known as the Kazon.”

“Oh my, we’ve heard terrible things of them,” Megan squeaked in fear.

“Oh I’d reckon so. They roam the open range preying on the weak and innocent and I feel horribly responsible for the girl. You see, I was the first to open trade negotiations with a tribe that resides at the base of the mountains I travel to frequently. I don’t reckon either of you’ve heard of the Ocampa.”

The girls exchanged quizzical looks and Neelix rested back in his chair. He folded his arms proudly across over his slight belly. “I ain’t surprised, not many frontiersmen have enough courage to brave travel’n that way, and the Ocampa have a knack for vanishing into the rocks when strangers approach. Anyhow, on the day that Kes was taken — that is the young girl’s name by the way — well, I had arranged to meet with the elders that day so the Ocampa didn’t hide when that evil rode in. If it wasn’t for me she never would’ve been taken.”

“Oh that’s just heartbreaking, ain’t it sis?” Jenny said, resting a comforting hand on Neelix’s arm. Megan mimicked the act with Neelix’s other arm. The young women were dressed alike, hair pulled up in the same manner, faces painted in the same fashion, and their features were too alike to be a coincidence. The instant Jenny and Megan sat down, Tuvok had assumed them to be kin but after a moment of observation he deduced that they must have been, in fact, twins.

“Mr. Vulcan was kind enough to aid me in my quest,” Neelix told the girls each in turn. 

“How nobel,” the girls chimed together. 

“It is a worthy endeavor despite the insurmountable odds stacked against us,” Tuvok replied. 

“Did I mention that I, in fact, bought Mr. Vulcan sometime ago with a bundle of scrappy looking furs?” 

“I assure you, Mr. Neelix, you did not. Nor do I suspect they would care to know such facts,” Tuvok answered with a sigh before the girls spoke. It was not surprising to anyone that Tuvok, being a colored man of his age, had once been a slave. Though it had been nearly two decades since the war between states and brothers, many folks still remembered it, even those out west. 

“I’d like very much to hear your account, Mr. Neelix,” Megan said, her fingers dancing along his neck and shoulders. 

Neelix chuckled, squirming at her touch. “Well, I recollect that I needed to off load some of my lower quality furs. On one fine day I stumbled upon a gentleman and Tuvok in the woods hunting. Not successfully I might add,” Neelix laughed throughout his tail. “I needed some help, and the gentlemen needed to have something to show for his efforts I reckon. Mr. Vulcan has been in my company ever since.”

“So Mr. Vulcan is your former slave?” Jenny asked.

“Firstly, I ain’t never been Mr. Vulcan’s master, I made that perfectly clear to him from day one. He was free the moment his master and I shook hands on the deal,” Neelix said triumphantly. 

“Indeed,” Tuvok huffed. “With no current pursuits and suddenly without a master to supply me with my basic needs of food and shelter. It seemed logical to ride in Mr. Neelix’s company until such time as I could venture on my own,” he clarified. 

"That was nearly 30 years ago," Neelix interrupted. "I'm start'n to think he likes me too much to leave," he chuckled, giving Tuvok a wink. 

Tuvok took a slow deep breath, a technique he had learned in order to hide his emotion around the masters. Though Neelix was not his master, Tuvok still looked forward to the day he may be free of him. Tuvok spent more of his life with Neelix then he ever had as a slave, but in 30 years time there never seemed to be an adequate moment to leave Neelix's company. It was as if fate had intertwined their lives.

“We rode into Delta in the hopes of joining a posse to look for Kes, but we arrived too late I’m afraid. That shopkeeper suggested we wait here to hear word of the posse. I just hope Kes is alright.” Neelix wrung his hands nervously. 

"Is there anything you require gentlemen," a tall busty blonde asked approaching their table. Her hair was pulled up with soft curls running down her back. A large blue feather atop her head matched the blue of her eyes as well as crushed leather blue for her corset draped around her tiny waist. Her sparkling blue eyes were locked on him. She had a scar over her left eyebrow that ran down her temple and stopped just above her cheekbone. It had healed so cleanly it was almost as a beauty mark. "Seven of my nine rooms are currently occupied so if you are in need of lodgings for the night, I recommend you procure them now." 

"Oh well in that case we'll take your last two," Neelix fumbled through his coat for his coin bag. Jenny and Megan retracted from Neelix once they spotted how few coins he had left. "I say we'll take two meals and two bottles of whiskey as well. Would you girls care to join us for a drink?" He watched the girls rise from their seats. 

“That’s mighty kind of you Mr. Neelix, but we ought’ah get to working now,” Jenny replied, and Megan knelt down, placing a kiss on the side of Neelix’s forehead. “God be with you in finding your Kes, Mr. Neelix.”

“Thank you, have a good evening ladies,” he turned to watch them go. What fine, upstanding sisters, he thought. He turned back to the tall woman, who was waiting for payment with an outstretched hand that was covered in more scars like the one on her brow. “And here you are my dear,” he dropped the coins into her hand.

"Very well," she nodded, she counted the coin quickly. "I am Annika, I run this establishment. If you require anything else, direct your inquiries to me." She nodded her thanks, then slid away in a graceful strut, weaving through the drones of people with little effort. So preoccupied with the task of the poker games Annika was virtually ignored as she passed her patrons.

“I certainly don’t want to be on Annika’s bad side,” Neelix whispered. 

“Indeed,” Tuvoke answered, with a raised brow.

=/\=

Kathryn watched as the light slid it's way across the giant rock formation off in the distance. The reddish earth took on the resemblance of a full coffee pot. Kathryn wetted her lips with the thought of the dark, hot liquid but unfortunately she did not have any with her. When she rode out of Delta yesterday in search of the hot springs B’Elanna had told her about, Kathryn did not expect to be gone more than a few hours, but Chakotay’s sudden arrival had changed all that.

Chakotay found her while she was sitting in the springs, her head slumped over her injured shoulder to rest. The sight caused him to expect the worst. What he found, and Kathryn did as well, was the unmistakable desire to be close to one another. In their short time together Chakotay and Kathryn had imprinted themselves so deeply to each other, that at the first moment of separation they were drawn back together. Like a moth to a flame or a butterfly to a flower. In the heat of the waters, in the dying light, Chakotay had made love to Kathryn, sealing their connection for beyond time. 

Chakotay called her Shenadoah, the beautiful daughter of the stars. A name his animal guide would know her as, implying that his animal guide would know her for a long time to come. When Kathryn had found Chakotay in Carson City, he had been a target, her mission, a bounty to be collected upon to start a new life. Little did she realize a new life had already begun right now, one in which she awoke in the arms of a loving man. A new life built from dismantling the dreams of another. 

Kathryn had not planned to fall in love again, especially not with a wanted man. A man whose future led to a jail cell for who knows how long. She felt his chest rise and fall into her back, felt his breath as it whispered past her jawline. She felt the weight of his arm resting around her middle filling her with warmth as they laid out on the blanket he’d brought from the Pairs’ ranch. Kathryn did not want to surrender this feeling, not for money, not for anything. 

Kathryn felt Chakotay begin to wake behind her. He breathed in a deep sigh while his arm pulled her closer to him. "Morn'n," his groggy voice sounded before pressing a kiss behind her ear. "How do you feel?" 

"Wonderful," she hummed, smiling as Chakotay furthered his kisses along her neck down to her shoulder then back. Physically she was sore from the love making and slightly chilled on the parts of her not connected to him, but her soul felt lighter than it had in years. Kathryn did not regret having sex with Chakotay; quite the opposite. She was eager to explore him and all that this budding relationship had to offer. There was just one thing standing in their way. "Chakotay, how far are we from the border?" She asked quietly, rubbing his arm that was draped around her middle. 

"We’re still a ways from Wyoming," he answered, nipping at the base of her neck, his hand making circles in her belly. 

"No, we ain't go'n to Wyoming," she twisted her head, cutting him off from his pursuit of tasting her. "I mean how far from the Mexican border?" 

Chakotay pulled away to rub the sleep from his eyes and pushed up onto his elbow with the other. Kathryn fell flat to look up into his sleep torn brown eyes. "Whatcha mean we ain't go'n to Wyoming Kathryn?"

"Chakotay, I don't want the money. You don’t belong in jail neither. I say we leave this behind and make a run for Mexico," she explained.

"I'm honored you wanna run away with me," he leaned down, pecking her lips with his own. "But, until I pay my debt I’ll always be an outlaw." Kathryn was shocked that Chakotay wasn’t excited that she was no longer going to turn him in, that he had his freedom once more. 

Kathryn had thought that last night, their coming together had bound their spirits. He had told Kathryn that she had captured him body and soul. Had it all just been a lie to sleep with her, since he never expected to see her again after Wyoming? “You don’t want to be with me then?” she chewed on her cheek. 

Chakotay brushed a lock of auburn hair from her forehead, smiling dimples deep down at her. “I can’t imagine a life without you in it.” Kathryn smiled in relief as his eyes studied her face. Memorizing the shape of her lips, the color of her messy auburn hair, the love in her beautiful blue eye. “But I am a wanted man Kathryn, people will always be look’n for me. ” 

"That don't matter. I can't lose you. I've lost so much already," her eyes wetted and she turned away from him. 

Kathryn never expected to have this with another man. Love. Peace. A deep sense of trust and hope. When her fiancé had died, everything Kathryn had hoped and dreamed her life would be, ended too. She’d made plans to build a home and farm in Indiana, to have at least a dozen children, and to grow old with her husband. But plans change, life forces people to change. After all the grief Kathryn could now see a new life for herself, with Chakotay, not one previously imagined, but one no less beautiful. She'd be damned if anything took him away from her now. 

Chakotay fingers ran across her jaw, turning her back to face him. The blue in her eyes even more striking against the red from the tears. "I don’t want to keep run'n," he replied as gently as he could. 

"Then stop run'n and start follow'n. Follow me to Mexico... follow me to South America. Hell follow me to the other end of the stars if that's what it'll take." Kathryn reached up and traced his tattoo. 

"I reckon if I don't, you'll just get me drunk and tie me to that horse again," he teased, dimples framing his smile once more. 

"But this time I'll tie them knots so well, you won't figure'em out till Mexico," she gave a lopsided grin through the tears. 

"What about San Francisco? Teach’n?" he asked. In his heart he was bound to Kathryn; she saved his life, she gave him peace, she accepted his love. Running with him meant giving up an honest life. Chakotay did not want Kathryn to sacrifice anymore for the angry warrior that he was.

"I ain't nobody's teacher, but I am _your_ Shenandoah," she said flatly. 

"I love you Kathryn Janeway, my female warrior, my Shenandoah. I'll follow you to the heavens, but I ain't let'n you fall to Hell for my wrong doin." 

“I’ve lived through Hell once,” her voice hitched with a wave of fresh tears. “I ain’t go’n back to that because the thing is- I love you Chakotay.”

Chakotay wiped away the tears, kissing each cheek once they were gone. His finger snaked its way along her jaw, down her neck and across her collarbone. “Reckon it’s a good thing that I love you too then,” Chakotay whispered. He captured her lips, feeding all this love and emotion to kiss that had them both gasping for air when he was through. 

Chakotay rested his forehead along hers, eyes shut, breathing in the scent of her laying pinned beneath him. “I can’t give you a normal life,” he breathed, one last desperate attempt to change her mind.

Kathryn’s hands ran up the side of his chest, feeling the strong muscles under the shirt, her touch sending a desire to stir within him, “I am a bounty hunter Chakotay, weird is part of the job,” Kathryn’s voice grew husky as her fingers played at the edges of his shirt, biting her lower lip and sending Chakotay’s manhood to swell at her hip. Chakotay’s lips followed the same path his fingers had a moment ago, Kathryn arched upward into his kiss, eager to discover what pleasures he had in store for her today. 

Kathryn wouldn’t need rope to get her way with him anymore, all she needed was a well placed kiss and a smile.

=/\=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I adore comments and kudos. Please let me know what you think... _you should be in quarantine anyway, what else are you going to do? Wink*Wink*_ ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay have a plan for the future, but could the woman of Chakotay's past change all that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much Thanks goes to my Betas reads A_Modern_Girl and Itwasadarkandstormynight. If not mention before I do not own these characters or any stock in the Star Trek franchise, all I get is a creative outlet and your enjoyment of my stories. 
> 
> WARNING: I will place a general warning on this chapter for mention/evidence of physical abuse and Alcohol abuse.

As usual, the Paris homestead was awake and busy at dawn. Harry brought in a large ration of salted meat from the storage shed, Tom went out for water from the well and B’Elanna checked on her biscuits in the cast iron stove. Life on the ranch was hard work, but the three of them were determined to build a life and future there. B'Elanna hadn't said anything to the boys just yet, but in a few months, their threesome would become a team of four. Her trip to the Doc had not been solely for Kathryn's benefit. The Doc's thorough examination had confirmed B'Elanna's suspicions, and in no time at all she would be showing the first, of hopefully many, little blessings to come. 

Harry carved some meat for breakfast then placed the rest under a cloth for later. Tom stumbled in through the door, the pail of water now partially emptied on the floor. He set the pail down with what little was left before kissing his wife's forehead as she bustled around the stove. “Good morn’n B’E.” He smiled, a rarity for him these days. He reached for the pot of coffee and poured himself a cup.

“Good morn’n husband.” She smiled back. “You’re in a pleasant mood.”

“And why not, wife? I have you, I have this ranch,” he answered, taking a seat at the table. "I’ll have the Chief gone for good,” he uttered under his breath, so quietly no one but the Devil could hear him. Out of the corner of his eye Tom saw B'Elanna retrieve her biscuits from the oven while Harry’s back was to the table. Tom reached down to pull a flask from his boot, pouring a generous helping of whiskey into his cup. He had spent the majority of the night in a drunken stupor and as a result was suffering a mighty hangover that morning for it. Chakotay and Kathryn's arrival to his ranch had given him both a reason and the means to hide his fall from sobriety. 

Tom's hand shook as he brought the cup to his lips. _'This is the last one,'_ he thought, savoring the slow pull of the hot liquid past his tongue. _‘Once_ he _is gone, I can stop.’_ Tom had convinced himself that everything would change once Chakotay was gone, that he'd be a better man and husband. Once Chakotay was no longer around to cast a shadow, a shadow which invoked the demons within Tom’s mind to wreak havoc, things would be better. Though Chakotay never mentioned Mike Ayala’s death, nor did he continue blaming Tom for it since the first day he arrived, Chakotay's mere presence was a tormenting reminder of that drunken night in Annika Hensen’s establishment. 

Tom recalled that he had somehow enraged another patron while playing cards. Unable to defend himself in his state, as he could barely even stand by that point, Mike had intervened on Tom’s behalf. Mike’s reward was a long knife to the belly which had him gutted in front of the whole saloon. Chakotay had ran to fetch the Doc but Mike had died in Tom’s arms before anything could have been done. That was the last time he had seen Chakotay or his crew.

Tom went cold turkey from that night forth. Only one other time in the years that followed did he very nearly return to the bottle; it was the day he met Harry. Harry, the Chinaman down on his luck, had been looking for work far from the railroad with little success. Tom took pity on the young lad and brought him home to be his ranch hand, a win for everyone involved. B’Elanna and he would have help around the ranch, Harry would have work and a roof over his head, and any spare money would go to Harry’s wages instead of taunting Tom to buy just one more drink. 

But the day Chakotay showed up with a blood soaked woman in his arms, Tom's mind was sent right back to the night of Mike’s death, and his willpower to resist the bottle vanished. Once Chakotay was gone he could stop, just like last time. 

Tom studied his wife as she transferred the hot biscuits into a cloth lined basket with her bare hands. Quiet the marvelous woman she was, strong-willed, stubborn to a fault, but ultimately the love of his life. It may have been the angle of the light, or the euphoric nature of the whiskey in his cup, but B'Elanna seemed to glow this morning more than usual. 

“Where are the others?” Tom asked, downing the rest of the cup before B'Elanna could smell the evidence.

“I spotted Chakotay and Kathryn in the barn, a bit ago,” Harry replied mournfully, helping B’Elanna transfer the food to the table. 

"Cheer up Harry," B'Elanna nudged him as he passed. "You still have the Delaney sisters," she teased, hoping to lighten the ranch hand's mood. She didn't want any long faces when she revealed to them her good news. B'Elanna took the seat on the opposite end of her husband and waited for Chakotay and Kathryn to appear before saying grace. 

“I reckon all is well or Chakotay would have rode back here like a bat-out-of-hell last night,” B’Elanna uttered, helping herself to some coffee.

"That ain't none of our business," Tom said, scooping a helping of beans to his plate. 

"I agree with Tom on this one," Harry said with a pout. B'Elanna rolled her eyes, then threw a biscuit at him when he sat to get him out of his mood. It worked momentarily as he tried to hide a grin at her antics. That was, until Kathryn and Chakotay entered through the backdoor hand-in-hand. It was unmistakable to anyone that the couple had matching smiles and seemed to be glued to each other as they joined the three at the table. 

“Just in time! Hungry?” B’Elanna asked with a knowing smile. Harry suddenly became very interested in his food and Tom couldn't have cared less. 

“Quite so. Thank you,” Kathryn answered, nuzzling into Chakotay’s side. Chakotay ducked his head, hiding an even larger smile, pulling on his ear. He fought the urge to wrap her in his arms and kiss her till they were both spent of air. B’Elanna had never seen Chakotay look so happy, nor Kathryn, in the short time she had known the woman. 

“Coffee?” Chakotay asked softly. Kathryn nodded eagerly and helped herself to one of the warm biscuits. 

“I gather you found the hot spring then?” B’Elanna asked, buttering her bread. “I also gather that you found Kathryn safe and sound?” She directed the second inquiry to Chakotay. Neither one answered her, both just grinning like lovestruck newlyweds, which was answer enough for B’Elanna. 

Chakotay handed Kathryn the mug of coffee then loaded a plate with eggs, meat, beans, and a helping of butter for her biscuit. He set the plate down in front of her and began to work on his own. “Are you trying to fatten me up?” Kathryn chuckled after taking a measured sip of strong black coffee. 

Chakotay pulled on his ear again, looking to B’Elanna for help, but she only smirked and drank her own coffee. “You need to build your strength, for the trip to Mexico.”

“Mexico?” Tom choked on a spoon full of beans. “Ain’t the bounty in Wyoming?”

“Change in plans, we'll be leaving for Mexico and start'n new life,” Kathryn explained. She turned back to Chakotay, running a loving hand over his inked brow. Chakotay leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead. Everyone in the room watched with very different reactions; B’Elanna was happy for the couple, Harry heartbroken, but Tom’s gut bubbled with guilt. 

The sight had Tom’s hand jerking with more aggressive tremors than usual, and the spoon he was holding fell to the table with a clatter. B'Elanna eyed her husband just as he ducked his hands beneath the table. She wondered what he could be possibly hiding this time. At first she thought his distance was to hide himself from Chakotay, but now she suspected that there was much more going on.

“Is there someth’n you would like to say, husband?” B’Elanna asked, knowing he’d never give a straight answer with others around though she tried anyway. 

“No ma’am,” he grinned his boyish smirk. The one that won her heart years ago, but was heart wrenching to see it now as it did not reach his bright blue eyes.

=/\=

With each forward gallop of the horse's momentum her anticipation grew with giddy delight. Fifteen men at her back meant there would be no escape for him, no running from her this time. The stallion breathed heavily beneath her, the long trek from deep within the hidden parts of the canyon to here was not meant to be done with such haste. But she had to hurry if she was going to catch him there. Who in the hell did he think he was anyway? How could he just leave like that, to leave her like that? Hadn’t they been the perfect team, both on a heist and in her bed? He had a warrior's mind, he knew exactly how, when, and where to hit a mark for making them all the richer and the people they stole from none the wiser. But they had had one little disagreement and he had abandoned her, forcing her to seek out new acquaintances who had flexible morals, just like her.

He wasn't going to get away from her that easily, especially not when his head would buy a new future; one that saw him at the end of a rope and her getting away freely from the crime. Chakotay had been fun when they were together, but he had crossed her which meant any loyalties they may have had were long over.

On the horizon emerged the familiar sight of a ranch she had frequently visited. She and Chakotay would hide out there after a heist on more than a few occasions, so much so that she had begun to form a friendship with the lady of the house. She adored B’Elanna Paris for her spunk and fierceness, but it annoyed her to see B’Elanna settle for this mundane life with her moron of a husband. She would have killed Tom ages ago if she had thought for even a second B’Elanna would join her on the road of crime. As it was, B’Elanna was deeply devoted to that damned fool and the foul-smelling ranch they called home. 

She reared her horse to a halt far enough away from the homestead that they wouldn't be discovered until she was ready. She gave a wave to the men signaling to them to surround the house. The only disruption to the tranquility of the ranch was the horses kicking up a blanket of dust and dirt as they circled, cutting off any chance of escape for the occupants inside. 

_'Finally,'_ she thought. She pulled a gun from her thigh holster taking aim high overhead. This was it, time to finally settle the score. Squeezing the trigger she fired a single shot into the air, announcing their arrival. 

The sound from the horses had alerted the group but the sound of the shot ripping through the air flung the contentment from the four still seated at the table. Tom and Harry jumped to the window, pulling back the coverings to see outside. They were met with a gut-wrenching sight as a group of undesirables surrounded the house, all on horseback and all heavily armed. They were Kazon. The man in charge had a foot wrapped in dirty bandages and a look of vengeance etched in his expression. To his right rode a woman dressed in dark leathers carrying just as many, if not more, firearms then the men orbiting the house. From this distance the woman had a wicked gleam in her eye that Tom could make out even from inside. 

The woman kept her revolver pointed upright, the end still smoldering from the shot. She nudged her horse a bit closer, not that she needed to with her thunderous shout, “Chakotay! I know you’re in there!”

“Oh God,” B’Elanna breathed, knowing that voice all too well. Chakotay rose from the table to peer out of the window for himself. In plain view, through the rippled glass he saw _her_. It was the woman who had brought his life nothing but misery and had turned him into an outlaw. The woman he had hoped to forget, and had thought he could remove from his life. 

Sitting on a black beast of a horse in front of the Paris’ home was the Devil herself, Seska.

“Come on out here and meet my friends,” she said with a chuckle, throwing a nod to the men. The men started shouting and hauling, firing wild ammunition into the air. The Kazon were amused, all but the one next to Seska. The very same one Chakotay should have ended weeks ago, Culluh. He looked just as angry as he did ugly, with his gun aimed at the house. Sitting behind him on his horse was a fair skinned native girl, who looked terribly frightened at the Kazon's wild antics.

Tom pulled himself from the window and headed to the bedroom where he kept his gun. He reappeared a moment later with the steel, checking that it was fully loaded. “Wait here, maybe I can talk with her,” Tom told the group. 

“What in the hell you think you do’n Tom?” his wife barked at him. 

“I’m gonna go talk with her,” he said, tucking his pearl handle gun into the waistband of his pants at his back, covering it with his shirt. “Harry, stay outta sight, Seska ain’t never seen you before, so she won't go look’n for what she don’t know ‘bout.” Tom clasped a hand around Harry's arm, pulling him away from the window, before heading out the door. 

Kathryn absorbed the concern of the room, hell, she felt it herself. Her last dealings with the Kazon almost had her joining her father and St. Peter at the pearly gates. The thought sent a chill down her back, but she had a choice to make - to give in to the fear or face it head on. The woman outside was a mystery, but if she rode in the company of the Kazon, Kathryn figured she must be no good. The decision was simple, Kathryn sprang from her seat into her tiny room off the kitchen and retrieved her gun holster and her rifle. She wedged up next to Chakotay at the window, ready to take aim.

Chatokay felt her press up next to him. He dropped the covers to look down at her. “What’re you do’n with that?” he hissed. 

“I ain’t gonna let them Kazon take you, not after everything we’d been through,” she answered, glaring at him. 

“And I ain’t letting you die for me.” Chakotay ripped the gun out of her hands and wrapped an arm around her middle, dragging her into the depth of the house, furthest from any window. Kathryn was like a rag doll in his arms, helpless to free herself from him, though she tried. Chakotay handed the gun to B’Elanna as they passed and motioned for Harry to follow. Chakotay released her once they were far enough away, and Kathryn swatted at him. He grabbed both her wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to his chest. His other hand slid to the nap of Kathryn’s neck to pull her in for a deep kiss.

Kathryn's heart raced from the adrenaline pounding in her ears. Chakotay's lips moved with passion, with urgency, with a need to show his love for her ran deeper than his own survival. A rock formed in the pit of her stomach once he pulled away, his coffee-brown eyes fixed on her blue. 

"I love you Kathryn, but I can’t follow you back to the stars." His thumb grazed her cheek. 

“I love you too Chakotay. We can figure this out. Let me help you,” she pleaded, grasping at the front for his shirt where he held her hands pinned. 

“Kathryn stop! This ain’t a fight we can win. I couldn’t live with myself if anyth’n happened to you,” he whispered, pushing her into the hands of the nervous ranch-hand in the room. 

“Chakotay, NO! PLEASE!”

“This is for your own good,” he turned. Unable to look at her, as he might not go through with what he had to do if he did. “Harry, stay hidden, keep her safe,” Chakotay ordered, marching to the door. "Goodbye Shenandoah," he called, pulling open the door and he left to face the wrath of the Kazon and Seska.

=/\=

“It’ll be just like old times,” Tom said, trying to broker a truce. “I can patch up your partner and we can all-”

“My angry chief, there you are,” Seska called, spotting Chakotay as he exited the homestead, ignoring Tom. If she had to wait much longer, Tom wouldn't still be standing here, regardless of her fondness for B'Elanna. 

Chakotay slowly walked out into the open, his fingers interlocked behind his head as he approached. He knew he was doing the right thing, leaving Kathryn in Harry's care to keep them both hidden, giving B’Elanna Kathryn's rifle to wait inside. But it still pained him that with each step closer to Seska he was ripping himself away from Kathryn. _'She is safe. She will have a future, a better one than if she'd stayed with me,"_ he thought. 

It had not been too long since the last time he and Seska had seen each other, but she looked drastically different in the time that had passed. Her red hair had started to thin, giving her an oddly large forehead. Between her cold eyes she had a scar in the shape of a teardrop, falling up toward her hairline. Age lines had formed around her eyes giving the illusion that she had aged ten years since he'd been gone. ‘Course, in her line of work, it was easily done. Her lips curled as she smiled at him, her teeth were as crooked as her soul. 

Chakotay looked to Culluh as he drew closer, his dirt covered face held an arrogant smirk. A girl with short blond hair sat behind him on the horse. She was a tiny thing, her eye and lips marked purple from the mistreatment. Chakotay recognized the markings of the girl’s garments to be from the Ocampa tribe. He very much doubted she had gone with these men willingly. From what he knew about them, the Ocampa were pacifists. 

“Where are your friends Seska, all I see are thugs,” Chakotay said. 

“I hear y'all are already acquainted,” Seska answered with amusement. 

“I’ve had the misfortune, yes,” Chakotay growled, seeing red as Culluh nudged his horse forward so that he hovered over him. Culluh gave a swift kick to Chakotay’s face with his good foot. Chakotay’s head sickenly snapped back and he fell flat to the dirt, blood flowed from the corner of his mouth and nose. 

“Where’s that pretty bitch of yours?” he barked, spitting down on him. 

Chakotay took a minute to regain his senses. He glared up at Culluh whipping at the crimson, “You shot her, remember? She’s dead.”

“Too bad.” Culluh smiled. “Would have liked to’ve been between those legs. If her breasts were any clue, she’d made one hell of a ride.” Chakotay’s blood boiled, his heart pounding in his ears, but he had to remain level headed. He was sure all their lives depended on it now. 

“Shut - the - fuck - up - Culluh,” Seska shouted, clocking him in the back of his head with the blunt of her gun. Culluh swayed to the side and the Ocampa girl fell from the horse to the ground beside Chakotay. Chakotay noticed her wrists and ankles were bruised just as much as her face. She glanced at him with large fearful eyes. They were both helpless to Culluh and Seska. “You already got a Navojoa girl." She spit on the ground beside them and glared at Cullah. 

"I'm Ocampan, I have a name, it's Kes," the girl answered from the dirt. Her voice was full and much deeper than Chakotay would have suspected from someone of her size. 

Culluh pointed his firearm at the girl, but she didn't flinch, returning his glare with one of her own. "Did I say you could speak?" He barked. She shook her head but kept her eyes on him. "Good," he sneered, "now get back on this horse." 

The girl rose and did what she was told, returning her to her place behind him.

"Are you two fucking done?" Seska shouted at them. Culluh glared at her but remained quiet. 

“That’s better,” she smirked. “Only good Kazon is a silent one. Now, for the matter at hand. Chakotay, say goodbye to Tom, you’re comin’ with us.”

“Why? What’re you want’n with me?” Chakotay gathered himself from the dirt. 

“What can I say, I can’t let a man get away from me that easy,” she sneered. “Especially not one like you.”

“We’re over Seska, there ain’t no way I’m coming with you,” he lied. He'd do anything to keep them away from the house, but if he made it too easy Seska would get suspicious. 

Seska sighed, rolling her eyes as she then pointed her gun at Tom. “You don’t come with me, I’ll get mighty upset. Now I know you ain’t care much for this drunk, but you ain’t willing to make B’E a widow. Would you?” 

Tom's skin was slick with sweat, his hands raised high as he looked back toward the house, toward his wife that he knew would be watching. Seska was too far for him to grab the gun, nor would it have helped any with a dozen of her men all armed who had no qualms for shooting him dead. All he could do was hope the Chakotay would do as she asked. 

“Okay, Seska. You win,” Chakotay answered in defeat.

=/\=

B’Elanna stood at the window with Kathryn’s rifle in hand, watching as Seska pulled a gun on her husband. Her heart stopped. Though she was armed, there was nothing she could do. She watched as Tom turned his view to the house, as if telling her his ‘goodbye’. He wasn’t very far, she could make out the regret in his eye, but with the Kazon surrounding the house he might as well be 70,000 miles away. Why hadn't he just stayed in the house? Behind her she could hear Kathryn struggle to free herself, but Harry held firm with a hand over her mouth and an arm around her middle trapping her arms to her chest.

B’Elanna watched as Chakotay climbed onto an unmanned horse the Kazon had brought with them. Seska holstered her gun in triumph and led the group away from the ranch. As swiftly as they came they were gone.

“They’re gone,” B’Elanna called to Harry and Kathryn. The young ranch hand let go and Kathryn bolted for the door. Outside there was nothing left but a frightened yet relieved Tom, a cloud of dust, and a splatter of Chakotay’s blood on the ground. Kathryn wanted to cry and scream. Just that morning she had been planning for a future, a new future with Chakotay and within a matter of minutes he was gone, ripped away from her like her father, like her fiancé. Her future had, once again, turned to dust. 

"We have to go after them!” Kathryn roared, her voice on the verge of cracking. She turned frantically to see which way they had headed. B'Elanna ran out to embrace her husband, and Harry stood by, ready to console Kathryn. 

But Kathryn didn't want to be comforted, she wanted Chakotay back. "Which way did they go?" she glared at the three of them as if they were misbehaved children. 

“He is an outlaw, _she is a murder’n outlaw_ , you go'n after him is just going to get yourself killed. I say good riddens to the Chief and you should too,” Tom scratched the back of his neck.

“Unacceptable,” she gave him an icy glare. 

“Well lady, you’re dumber than you look-” Before Tom could finish a stinging pain flooded his cheek and into his eye. Kathryn marched up to him and landed her hand squarely across his face. 

“If you won’t help me then I’ll find someone who will.” Her voice was low and full of rasp. The nature of it was more threatening than her yelling. 

"You." She pointed at Harry. Poor Harry looked like a frightened caged rabbit; his only crime was following orders. "Help me with my horse," she growled and headed for the barn. The young ranch hand followed without question. 

B’Elanna cupped her hand over Tom’s, rubbing at the tender flesh. “You all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he answered, watching Kathryn race out of the barn and in the direction of Delta to find help. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he said.

“What’re you talk’n about?” B’Elanna studied him, her hand still fixed over his. 

"It wasn't supposed to be Kazon,” he turned away from her. 

B’Elanna’s hand dropped to her side, “What did you do Tom Paris?”

Tom ran a hand through his sweat slick hair. He kicked at a rock on the ground but only manged to unsettle the dirt. “I may have let it slip that Chakotay was here.” He turned back to his wife, but she didn’t utter a word. Her look told him it was time to confess, to everything. “I-I was drinking… and one thing led to another… and… I never thought it'd be Seska showing up here. Some lawmen, ya’know to put him in irons, but not her.”

B’Elanna was quiet for a long time, she dropped her gaze and brought a hand to rub over her belly. “Was the drink worth it? Was it worth a man’s life?” B’Elanna voice grew quiet. Tom expected her to be mad, he expected her to scream at him, to shout at him for anyone to hear, but she didn’t. That scared him the most. “You’ve lost your way, Tom,” she continued. “How am I supposed to raise a baby with you stumbling to the bottle every time things get hard?”

“We are have’n a baby?” A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He drew himself closer, lifting a hand to rest it beside hers on her belly, but B’Elanna took a step back before he could. 

“No Paris, I’m have’n a baby. It sounds like you’re gonna have another drink.”

=/\=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and hopefully enjoying. I adore any comments or kudos you may send my way <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its a race against time to find help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so, sorry for the delay. My muse took me on a wild ride pretty much to Mars and back before it would let me work on this AU again. I also felt like a kind of "Jumped the Shark" with the last chapter, so my muse was also not happy about that. I would like to thank all the ladies in the corner that let me bounce ideas off them for months, as well as the several Beta's I had through the process. 
> 
> I would like to dedicate this chapter to Manalyzer.

=/\=

Molly flew over the heated terrain as Kathryn's heart pounded in her ears, like the hooves of a raging stampede. Her chest ached as if she had been trampled by a wild beast. Her cheeks were stained with the tears she'd shed when he left her hidden inside the Paris’ homestead. She felt Molly moving faster than she ever had before, but mostly she felt betrayed; she felt alone. When Kathryn first found the wanted outlaw in Carson City, she never expected to like the man, let alone become attached to him. But somewhere along the ride to Wyoming, to collect on his bounty, she had found herself falling head-over-heels in love with him. 

Kathryn loved his brown eyes that reminded her of coffee. She loved his gentle and caring nature. She loved his dimples when he smiled and the way he would duck his head trying to hide them when he was amused. Most of all she loved the fact that she knew he felt the same way.

Chakotay had saved her life, professed his love, and showed her how to physically express that love, and all within the last few weeks. When she kissed him for the first time in the hot springs, she knew that her life could not carry on as it had before. Her life had not truly started until that moment.

It was for this same reason that she felt her life was ending now. Kathryn had nearly ripped Harry’s arms off pleading Chakotay to stay with her. But he wouldn’t turn around, he kissed her goodbye and walked right out the door into Culluh and Seska’s hands.

 _“This ain’t a fight we can win. I couldn’t live with myself if anythin’ happened to you, Goodbye Shenandoah.”_ His last words played over and over in her mind as she raced toward Delta. Culluh had come for Chakotay and her, but Chakotay was unwilling to put Kathryn in harm's way. The odds weren’t great to be sure, but she was at least willing to fight.

 _“Goodbye Shenandoah.”_ The words echoed as the image of his back walking out of sight had her grip tightening on the reins. Her spurs nudged Molly faster and faster, and the terrain turned into a blur in her eyes. Kathryn’s anxiety grew the further she rode in the wrong direction, time was of the essence for a rescue, but she needed help. She needed men, she needed a posse, hell she needed the force of the goddamned U.S. cavalry to take on these bandits. Kathryn was a good shot with a rifle but she was only one person.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of riding, the outline of the buildings rose into view. Help was in sight as was Chakotay's salvation. Kathryn pushed Molly at a hazardous pace through the center of town, kicking up dirt and a billowing cloud of dust behind her. Kathryn heard people shouting their displeasure, but she did not dare slow. Chakotay’s life was at stake.

On the far end of town, past the saloon and doctor’s office, hung a sign shaped into a six-pointed star. The painted lettering had faded from the sun’s unrelenting blaze, but the shape was a symbol of hope. She rode ‘til she was nearly at the door, then pulled hard on the reins. Molly halted in her tracks, her hooves digging into the dirt stopping just below the sheriff’s sign, and she whinnied with displeasure. 

Kathryn ignored Molly's protest sliding from the saddle and racing up the steps to the door. She yanked on the iron handle with her injured arm and yelped as pain shot through her. The door was locked. 

Kathryn slammed her fist against the barrier. “Hello? Is anybody in there?” she hollered to anyone inside, but there was no answer. “Sheriff, hello?” Desperation growing, Kathryn bolted to the barred windows peering inside to the empty office. 

There was no sheriff or deputy to be seen. She ripped herself from the bars then searched up and down the dusty street, running a hand through her messy hair. Where could they have gone? Where should she look? She felt her legs weakening as a void quickly filled her chest, draining her energy to keep going. Time was slipping away, as were her chances of finding Chakotay before the Kazon killed him. 

Kathryn closed her eyes, breathing deeply to keep her tears in check. No one would help her if she became hysterical. Resting her hands on her hips, she took another calming breath before hearing the slabs of the boardwalk creak under the weight of persons approaching. Kathryn spun towards the on-comers, hoping it was the sheriff, or at the very least, someone who knew where to find him. Her uneasy legs had her stumbling over into the arms of a colored man, who looked down at her with a raised quizzical brow. 

"Pardon me madam," he said, correcting her stance before taking a step back. A smaller gentleman appeared behind the first with a toothy grin and a tip of his hat. Kathryn recognized them from the general shop the other day. They did not much look like law-keepers but with any hope maybe they were. 

"Excuse me, but are either of you the sheriff or deputies by chance?" She asked, quickly looking between them for confirmation. 

"We are not, madam," the tall one answered.

"Well, would you know where they may be?" She wrung her hands to calm her nerves. 

"I’m afraid we don’t," the shorter one spoke this time. "As it turns out, we were hoping to find them ourselves. Talk is...that most of the lawmen, those able anyhow, went out a few days ago hunting for some nasty Kazon in the area." 

"The Kazon! I saw the Kazon just this morning at the Paris ranch. I need to get help, they took my…" she blurted, but then grew quiet. What was Chakotay to her? Her prisoner, her lover, her one true soul mate? "Friend," she finally added.

The shorter fella grew very serious as his smile vanished stepping in close. "Did you see them yourself?" he asked. Kathryn nodded, remembering the dozen of men on horseback surrounding the house. "Did they have a young girl with them? An Ocampa girl?" 

“Ocampa?”

“A tribe of fair-skinned natives who reside in the foothills of western Colorado,” the taller one informed her.

Kathryn tried to recall more detail from that morning but the truth was that she had not had a good look outside before Chakotay pulled her away. Her focus was on the woman with the gun, Seska. The woman that had turned Chakotay into a wanted man. "I ain't sure, it all happened so fast," she admitted. Kathryn brushed her knuckles against her lips, remembering Chakotay's last kiss before Harry’s hand held tight over her mouth to muffle her cries. 

“The thing is, I too am looking for a group of Kazon. One that had kidnapped my dearest Kes,” the shorter man explained. “Mr. Vulcan, do you suppose this could be the same gang?”

“It is possible, although there are many factions of Kazon in this area,” Tuvok answered. “Madam,” he turned to Kathryn, “was there anyone else with you when the Kazon abducted your friend? Perhaps they can recall some other details about the incident.”

“Yes, it happened at the Paris ranch. Tom and B’Elanna Paris saw the whole thing,” she blurted. “They should be able to tell you more.”

“Perfect, which way then?” The shorter man jumped with excitement. “You can introduce us.”

“I’m sorry, I…I have to find the lawmen. I have to go after the Kazon, I ain’t got time-”

“Madam, we are prepared to aid you in mounting a rescue against the Kazon even if Kes is not with them,” Tuvok said. 

A wave of relief hit Kathryn as her legs turned boneless. “You will?” her voice a weak whisper. 

“We will?” Neelix said nearly at the same time she spoke.

“Yes, even if the Ocampa is not with _this_ group. They may know where other factions are and if any of them indeed have Kes,” he explained.

“You make an excellent point Mr. Vulcan. We will help, whether Kes is with them or not.” He reached out and squeezed Kathryn’s hands that had been locked together this whole time. “We will do everything we can for your friend,” he assured her. 

Kathryn could kiss them both for their offer. It wasn’t a posse but it was better than nothing, and far better than going it alone. “You have no idea how much this means to me. Hurry and grab your things, they have a few hours ride on us due east and if we-”

 _"Excuse me,"_ a woman dressed in a sensible checkered green dress interrupted. “May I pass?” she asked, staring at the group behind round spectacles that complimented her rosy cheeks and courteous smile. Neelix, Tuvok and Kathryn stepped aside to allow the woman and her children to pass on the boardwalk. The woman had two little girls, dressed in similar design dresses in tow, while she carried a third swaddled in white in a bassinet. 

Kathryn watched her go and pain stabbed her heart. The woman had the life that Kathryn had dreamed of once: children, a home, the ability to create a future she could be proud of. It was lovely. She and Chakotay may not have that kind of life together, but if she didn't get him back she'd have no life at all.

=/\=

Tom hid himself in the upper level of the barn, looking through a hole in the siding that needed to be patched before winter rains came. It gave him the perfect view of his wife as she hung laundry. Usually she would sing or hum while pinning the clothing, but not today. Today she was silent. Tom watched as she set the last shirt on the line then rested her hands on the belly where their growing child lay. B’Elanna shed a single tear then collected her basket and went into the house.

Tom kicked at a stool close by then fell to the floor, hitting his head on the wooden post behind him. He had hurt B’Elanna, his wife, his partner in this life and the next. He vowed never to do so but he was unable to stop himself because of his drinking. Tom mentally took stock of all his wrong doings while under the influence, and it wasn't good. A man was dead, another man was probably going to die, he lied to his wife, and he lied to himself thinking he could stop at any time. Whiskey had proven itself to be the escape from his guilt and memories from the war, but instead of helping him to forget, every day it added to the mountain of his guilt. Was this the kind of man he wanted to be? Did he want a drunk raising his child?

Tom lifted his pant leg and pulled the flask from his boot. Shaking it, he could tell there was still plenty of whiskey inside for a buzz. The flask was once Mike Ayala’s; his initials were branded on a piece of leather that covered the bottom. It was yet another reminder of the fact that his friend was dead. Frustrated, Tom threw the flask across the loft. It fell out of sight from the second level and hit something with a clang and a yelp down below. 

“Ouch!, What the hell?” Harry barked from somewhere in the barn. “Tom, are you up there?”

Tom didn’t answer his ranch hand right away. He wasn’t ready to face anyone just yet, but he also knew it would be hard to hide. Flasks of whiskey just don’t go around throwing themselves now. “I’m up here,” he reluctantly called out. 

Harry climbed the ladder and found Tom sitting on the far end of the loft. “Hmm, you dropped something,” he chuckled, righting an overturned stool and taking a seat. 

“This isn’t a good time Harry,” Tom sighed. 

“It’s never a good time to face the hard truth, boss.” Harry uncapped the flask then took a sniff. He grimaced as the alcohol within burned his nostrils and he capped the contents swiftly. "Strong stuff, boss. I just have one question. Why did you do it? Why did you tell the Kazon where Chakotay was?”

“I didn’t tell the Kazon!” Tom barked. “I just…” he quieted, shaking his head. “I just couldn't stand rememberin’. Every time I saw Chakotay, I saw Mike and I had to relive watching him die. It was my fault and I just want to forget,” Tom admitted, staring at the ceiling, unable to meet Harry’s eye. 

“Did you stab Mike?” Harry asked. 

“What? Of course not!” Tom huffed. 

“Did you pay that man to kill Mike for you?”

Tom's head snapped to Harry, who was staring back with narrow-slanted eyes. He suddenly looked much older with his serious expression. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Of course not. Mike was a good man, my friend.”

"He must not have been _that_ good a friend since you're drownin’ the life he saved with his own, in whiskey." Harry rose and placed the flask on the stool. “Mike gave you a gift, don’t be throwing it out now.”

Harry left Tom to his thoughts, hopeful his words would reach the distressed man. The only thing Harry could do now was sit and wait to see if Tom Paris would rejoin the present or continue to live out the rest of his life in the past.

=/\=

Kathryn led her new acquaintances to the Paris ranch, and by mid-afternoon her body felt to be on the verge of collapse. She hadn’t eaten much that morning, save for coffee, and her injured shoulder didn’t help matters much. Kathryn’s body wanted food, water, and rest, but she pushed those feelings aside, there was a mission to accomplish first.

Kathryn hadn’t felt this exhausted since the day she dragged her father’s and fiancé’s lifeless bodies out of the strong rocky river in Indiana. Unlike that day, when there was no rush to recover the bodies, time was of the essence if she hoped to see Chakotay alive again. 

“Tom!” she shouted once the threesome were close enough to the house. She didn’t want to waste time or energy climbing off Molly hunting for him. “Tom, you sonuvabitch show yourself now!”

B’Elanna rushed onto the porch, shotgun in hand, as Harry nearly tripped exiting out the barn in a sprint. _“Peta’Q_ ,” B’Elanna hissed, lowering the gun realizing it was Kathryn. “Dear God Kathryn, I thought you was Seska comein’ back for more.”

“I ain’t her, but I’m going after her alright. Where is that husband of yours, these gentlemen have some questions for him.” Kathryn gestured to Tuvok and Neelix. 

“Good afternoon madam, we have been informed that you and your husband may be able to give further insight into the events surrounding the abduction of Ms. Janyway's friend,” Tuvok greeted. 

“What is it you want’a know?” B'Elanna replied. 

“Did you happen to see a young woman with the group, an Occompa girl, by chance?”

“I did,” called a voice from the loft window of the barn. “She was riding with that ugly one, the one with the wrapped foot.”

“Culluh,” Kathryn growled. 

“Was she alright? Did they hurt her?” the frantic Mr. Neelix asked. 

“She wasn’t untouched but they certainly didn’t break her spirit yet,” Tom replied, remembering the strength of the little girl as she stared fire and venom at her captures. 

“That’s my Kes. She is so strong. Which way did they go? We have to hurry so we don’t lose their trail.” 

While they were all talking, Harry drew closer to Kathryn unnoticed. She looked paler than usual, and he would know since he was smitten with her. Kathryn had just begun to get around, but within the last few hours, she fought against him like crazy before riding off as if she were the last leg on the Pony Express. Kathryn looked exhausted and Harry could sense she couldn't hold out much longer. 

Kathryn pinched the bridge of her nose as her vision began to blur. She was losing the fight to stay upright. Her limbs weakened and her body began to feel cool, even in the blazing sun. "We're wasting ti-" Kathryn's words caught in her throat. Harry noticed she was beginning to slide and ran the last few meters to catch her before she tumbled to the ground. 

“Help me! She’s fainted,” Harry shouted. 

Tuvok jumped from his horse and ran to aid the young man. He lifted Kathryn from Harry’s arms as if she weighed nothing at all and turned to the lady of the house. 

“Bring her inside... mister?” B’Elanna eyed the tall man 

“Tuvok,” he answered with a slight bow of the head. 

“Alright Tuvok, you follow me. Harry, take care of the horses. Tom!” she shouted up at her husband. “If you ain’t too drunk to find the ladder, then get your ass down her now!” she barked, and turned into the house.

The group of men were speechless but they dared not disobey B’Elanna. In a time of uncertainty B’Elanna’s take-charge attitude, quick thinking and a strong hand, was just what was needed.

=/\= 

_Kathryn stood on the porch, looking out around the grey, wet landscape. The tiny pattering of rain hitting on the roof was dwarfed only by the sound of the droplets landing on the tiny leaves of her crops. She leaned against a wooden post, wrapping her arm around it for support and resting her head against the rough surface. Her husband promised to smooth the posts one day, but starting a family was higher on her list of priorities. Kathryn took in the scent of the damp earth and felt blessed that the rain had come to provide life to the crops._

_The sound of the screen door opening and closing behind her was not a surprise as her husband joined her on the porch, pressing himself into her back and wrapping an arm around her middle. “The Spirits have provided,” he whispered in her ear before kissing her neck._

_“Yes they have, dear husband. But only you can provide me with children,” she answered smiling and turning to face him. Chakotay’s brow furrowed, he was about to speak but Kathryn stopped him with a kiss. Her fingers came to the buttons of his shirt unfastening them quickly before he grew tired and ripped them all off. Admittedly it was a wonderful display when he did it in the heat of the moment, but it was a painstaking process to sew them all back on after. She ran her hands over the exposed skin of his bronze chest. His skin was warm and she was eager to feel his hot manhood inside her._

_“Take me inside,” she ordered in a husky voice. She flashed him a lopsided grin while her fingers lazily made circles on his stomach. “You ain’t no outlaw that can fuck a woman in the open any more. Take your wife to bed and love her proper.”_

_“Yes, Captain,” he growled, scooping her off the porch into his strong arms. Chakotay carried her into the house he had built and laid her on the bed with the blanket she had sewed. Everything around them was crafted with love and care, just like them. It was only fitting that the next thing their love crafted was a child._

_Chakotay sat beside her on the bed, brushing his knuckles along her jaw and smiled down at her. His dimples were visible but there was a sadness in his coffee-brown eyes. “I love you Kathryn, but I can’t follow you back to the stars,” he said gently, his thumb grazing her cheek._

_“You are the only star I need, and I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight,” she answered, grabbing his hand and holding it close._

_Chakotay released himself from her and stood. “Goodbye, Shenandoah,” he whispered, walking from the room. Kathryn sat up quickly and followed him to the next room. But as she got to the doorway she could go no further. Something was holding her back, keeping her in the room unable to reach her husband standing just meters away. It was as though there was some sort of invisible force keeping her from reaching the other side. Kathryn tried to call out to him but her lips would not part to make sound._

_Kathryn watched as Chakotay paused in his stride then stumbled to his knees before a man that had entered the house. She recognized the intruder as Culluh, who held a bloodied knife in his hand._

_Kathryn watched in horror as the Kazon grabbed the top of Chakotay’s raven black hair and placed the knife to his throat. “I’m going to have fun with your woman,” Culluh spat before slitting Chakotay’s throat. Crimson liquid spilled onto the floor and Chakotay, her husband, fell over dead._

=/\=

Kathryn jerked awake from her nightmare, brow slick with sweat as she looked around the tiny room. She was back in the cot she had slept in for days, the only problem was that Chakotay was not there to greet her. She pushed herself up her head feeling as though it had doubled in size. Her legs shook as she shifted to her feet and arms felt like they were full of lead. With all her pains and aches, she should have gone back to bed, but she had to get Chakotay back first.

Kathryn pulled open the door and made her way out into the kitchen. The darkened windows told her that it was night already, and if it was night then Seska and the Kazon had a full day head start. Tom sat at the table nursing a cup of tea when she entered. Harry and B’Elanna must have gone to bed while Tuvok and Neelix had probably gone off without her. 

“I’m sorry for what happened,” Tom began quietly, staring down at nothing. 

Kathryn rested her hands on the table leaning towards him. “If Chakotay dies, it will be on you,” Kathryn’s voice was deep and raspy. 

“I know that. That’s why I’m coming with you and the others to find him.”

“The others?”

“Yes, Neelix and Tuvok,” he gazed up at her. “We’ve agreed to leave at dawn. The four of us. I know where some of their old hideouts are. I can show you.”

“And how could I possibly trust you, after what you did?” Kathryn’s eyes bore into him. Her icy glare making his hair stand on end. 

“Trust that I’m tryin’ to be a better man. So I can be a better husband and a good father,” Tom answered earnestly. 

Kathryn pulled back not entirely believing his answer but satisfied enough. She hated to admit it but she needed him. She needed his knowledge if they were going to find the Kazon in time. “Alright then,” she stepped away, “We leave at dawn.” 

Kathryn grabbed a biscuit before stumbling back to her cot. She washed down the old bread with water from a jug that had been placed next to her bed. Chakotay had put that jug so she wouldn’t have to go far for water. He was incredibly thoughtful like that, taking care of her needs, lightening her burdens as she recovered. Kathryn laid her enlarged head down on the pillow and quietly cried herself to sleep. For now, all she could do was rest and before she drifted off, prayed that she’d be with Chakotay again.

=/\=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Again so sorry for the long wait for an update, please let me know what you think. Comments and kudos really motivate me to keep writing. Thank you!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even a little light can be found in a den of snakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: There is a Rape/Non-Consent warning placed on this chapter as well as thoughts of suicide. I used parts of a Cheyenne story in this chapter titled: Quillwork Girl and Her Seven Brothers. I do not own it or any part of Star Trek. 
> 
> Thank you JAlexMac for the Beta

=/\=

The blazing sun had descended below the horizon, chilling the air, darkening the sky, and waking the nocturnal predators for the hunt. Stars began to dot the night sky but Chakotay’s mind could only focus on one thing, Kathryn, his Shenadoah. The beautiful daughter of the stars, with pale moonlight skin and fiery auburn hair. Kathryn who had become his shining light. Who had become his guiding star, and who had turned into the love of his life.

They had been together for a moment, but that moment had been so pure, so intense, that it altered Chakotay’s world. Before Kathryn, Chakotay never would have surrendered to Seska and her Kazon followers. He would have welcomed the fight for his freedom, releasing the angry warrior he had always been. But for Kathryn, Chakotay set aside his anger and willingly walked into their waiting hands without a second thought. The further Chakotay rode from Kathryn, the heavier the stone in his gut felt. He knew he had done the right thing, but the pain of leaving her hurt like nothing he had felt before. It hurt more than the day he left his people. It hurt more than the day that Mike was slaughtered. Chakotay had found the woman that gave him peace deep in his soul, who made him feel whole, and he had to let her go forever. 

As the horses galloped onward, carrying him to the unknown, Chakotay told himself over and over again that this was for the best. Kathryn would be better off without him. She would be safer without him. She would grow old without him. She would find a way to live without him. In time Kathryn’s memory of him would fade. Kathryn would continue on, she had done it before. She would learn to do it again, to move on and become the school teacher she had planned to be. 

This was the only way. 

The gang rode into the hillside that Chakotay vaguely remembered as one of his and Seska’s old hideouts. If it was indeed their destination for the night, then Chakotay had no clue as to what Seska’s plans were. The pair had chosen this spot years ago for being well out of the way to any nearby inhabited town. Up and down, in and around did they ride over the terrain, heading west as the rocks grew higher and the passage narrower. Soon they were funneled single file through the gaps in the rocks until the passage opened up into a large alcove that was protected from all sides by the jagged earth. Chakotay remembered this place, but the hideout had been used and trashed since he was last here. Clearly the Kazon neither respected the land nor thought any posse would find this camp. 

There were abandoned fires everywhere, along with neglected sleeping rolls and dirty cookware. Either they hadn’t been here in a while or Seska’s new companions were the feral slobs they were rumored to be. The group slowed and Culluh barked out orders to have Chakotay tied up and the horse he rode cared for.

The goons were not gentle as they pulled Chakotay from the saddle and threw him in the dirt. Chakotay covered his head in time, as the two men took turns kicking him in the gut before rolling him over onto his stomach. His arms were forced behind his back by one, while the other pressed a knee to his neck to hold him in place. The weight of the man crushed Chakotay’s windpipe and he coughed and gasped against the knee. His lungs strained for air as the edges of his vision blurred. He was not long for this world, a few more moments and he would join his father in the afterlife. 

“Enough!” Seska shouted, and the weight was finally lifted. Chakotay choked a cough as the two men laughed. They pulled him from the dirt and sat him against a rock. One of them tied his legs while the other kicked him once more in the gut before they left. Beaten, defeated and hogtied, Chakotay stared at the ground reminding himself that he was lucky. He was lucky in the fact Kathryn was safe and alive, and no where near these animals.

Night had fallen soon enough and it had grown cold in the open air. The high rock walls gave them protection from the wind, but it was no substitute for a nice warm fire of which the Kazon conveniently placed him just far enough away from. Chakotay had tested his bindings a few times as it grew dark and the Kazon grew drunk. But unlike his time as Kathryn’s prisoner, these bindings were sturdy and tight, there was no getting out of them on his own. 

Cold and defeated, Chakotay looked up to the starry night and was able to make out a few constellations. One that stood out clearly was the Big Dipper, as it is called by the white man, but he knew it as the grouping of a young girl and her seven older brothers. A taunting collection of stars since the legend was of how Quillwork Girl and her seven brothers escaped an attack from a jealous herd of bison that wanted Quillwork Girl to be their sister. Quillwork girl and her brothers escaped into the sky to shine down on him now. It was a happy ending for Quillwork girl, but for Chakotay no such happy ending awaited him. Seska’s jealousy and anger was greater than any raging buffalo. 

As he longed to be in the sky beside his beloved Kathryn, Chakotay heard someone approaching him from behind and prepared himself for another round of punches to the ribs. He craned his neck to see and spotted the jealous bison herself, Seska. 

She carried a jug of something and her lips curled into a wicked grin as she approached. “Thirsty?” she asked and Chakotay nodded. Seska placed the jug at his lips and tipped the contents into his mouth. Thankfully it was only water and she let him drink till it was empty.

“Thanks,” Chakotay muttered, licking his lips. No sense in pissing off a violent woman any further. 

“See, I ain’t heartless like the rest of these Neanderthals.” She nodded over to the others. “How’s your stomach?”

“Fine,” he snipped, turning his attention to the dirt at his boots. 

“Your hair is longer than the last time we were together,” Seska smiled, running her thin spindly scarred fingers through his shoulder length hair. “What’s this? A bit more grey I see,” she laughed plucking a strand from his head to inspect it closer. Seska kneeled next to him before blowing the hair from her fingers. She brushed the back of her hand along his cheek, as her other hand roamed over his shoulders and down his chest. 

“Stop it Seska,” he huffed, trying to jerk away from her touch. 

“You used to like this, Cha-ko-tay.”

“You’re right, _used to_. I’m a different man now.” His nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw. 

“You ain’t different, you’ve just had other women. Ain’t that right?” Her eyes narrowed and the hint of rage sparked within. All the more reason Chakotay lied about Kathryn surviving her gunshot. 

“There ain’t been no one,” he tried to settle her wildness. “Besides what will _they_ think...you getting friendly with their prisoner?” Chakotay motioned around the campsite. 

"I am in a position of some influence with these Kazon. Culluh wanted to kill you as soon as you showed your face, but I convinced him that you’d be much more valuable alive. So if you think about it... you owe me your life," she said with a hint of glee, her lips curling into a wicked grin. 

“Well since you were the one that destroyed it in the first place, I’d say that makes us even,” he retorted. Chakotay’s own anger began to boil, he hated thinking he’d owe this woman anything.

With the speed of a striking snake, Seska flung her hands around Chakotay’s neck pulling hard to bring him to her lips, forcefully slithering her tongue inside his mouth. She tasted of desperation, venom, and evil. Chakotay would have bitten the serpent if it would have done him any good, but Seska had a way of lashing out unsuspectedly when angered. Chakotay shut his eyes and prayed it would be over quickly. At least he wouldn’t have to look at her while she took what she wanted from him.

Seska broke the kiss once she was satisfied and finished with a solid slap across Chakotay’s cheek. Her sharp nails dug in and broke the skin across his cheek. “That’s for leaving,” she hissed. She shoved him backwards and Chakotay’s head made contact with a jagged rock on the ground behind him, as a bright light flashed across his eyes.

Chakotay couldn’t tell if he was bleeding but his head throbbed all the same. Seska watched with pleasure as Chakotay struggled against his bindings to lift his head off the rock, but with his body laying on top of his bound hands, the task was impossible by himself. All his wiggling and helplessness reminded her of the nights they shared together after a heist. Once again the Chief was at her mercy, he was hers to do with him as she willed. “I guess all you needed was a good slap to the face, to get that angry Chief out again,” she chuckled, climbing over him to straddle his bound legs. 

“Fuck you Seska,” he spat, continuing to dislodge his head from the rock. His eyes unable to focus on the venomous woman. 

“Oh, I intend to,” she chuckled, snaking a hand under his shirt and pushing it upward to get a good look at the beating he’d received. Chakotay hissed as she poked at the purple tender skin of his abdomen. “That looks like it hurts, let me make you feel better,” she cooed, as one hand dipped below his trousers. Her fingers were cold and rough. Seska broke into a toothy grin when her hand closed around his length and began to tug on it. 

“Stop it Seska,” Chakotay groaned. He wanted to cry out, but who would help him in this den of snakes? He wanted to throw her off and run back into the arms of his real love, Kathryn. But the hand around his cock filled him with warmth that he didn’t want. In his soul he knew he wanted nothing to do with Seska, but as her hand worked him up and down, his body was being convinced otherwise. His cock did not know that the woman stroking it to hardness was not Kathryn. It did not know that this woman was pure evil, that this woman was about to take her pleasure from him without his blessing. No, all it knew was that a feminine hand was calling for it to waken. 

“St-Stop it…” he pleaded. Chakotay was ashamed that her touch had him tenting his pants - nauseated when his belly tightened with the need to release. A choked groan escaped him as she pulled him free to the night air, the coolness doing nothing to soften him. Seska shifted her skirt then sank down onto him, moaning as she took him all in one shove. 

Chakotay wanted to puke, this was all wrong. Seska’s heat surrounding him felt all wrong. He did not want this. Being trampled would have been better. Chakotay stared up at the stars, but try as he might, he could not escape this jealous buffalo. Seska wanted him like this and she was going to have him. She would fuck him, taking an intimate piece of him she had no right to. His heart belonged to Kathryn, but this wasn’t her, this was not the woman he loved. Why couldn’t his body tell the difference? 

“I’ve missed my _big-strong-warrior_ ,” Seska breathed heavily, bobbing along his shaft. Chakotay’s shoulders burned as his own weight crushed his arms beneath him, his skull ground against an edge of the rock he had hit. Each downward thrust felt like a betrayal of Kathryn’s love. He'd kissed her goodbye expecting to not even survive the night, yet he was still alive, to experience Seska killing his soul. Chakotay could accept death, he was a warrior, but this was so much worse. 

Chakotay was being raped by an evil woman, one whom he dared not spill his seed into. He would never want a child to be brought into the world this way or for it to know, in this world or the next, the contempt their father had for their mother. Seska had stripped him of being a law abiding man when they met, and now she was stripping away his dignity. 

“You feel so fucking good, Chief. Better than any of these backwater dirt-cover morons,” she sighed, her eyes sliding closed as her head fell back. Her thrusting became faster and she began to moan, hinting that she was almost at her end. Chakotay bit his lip hard enough that he tasted blood. He could _not_ spill into her, he begged his body not to do it, but Seska knew how to tease him. As she began to roll her hips inching closer to that final moment, Seska reached behind her and ducked under his clothes to caress his balls. “You feel full,” she chuckled. “Why don’t you let go, Chief?” She began massaging his sack bringing her victim to the point of combustion.

_‘Spirits no!’_ he cried in his mind, the familiar tightening low in his abdomen was ready to release. Seska was going to get what she wanted, it was only a matter of time. His bruised muscles did nothing to stop the building pressure in his balls. The explosion of cum was imminent, and Seska’s rotten belly would be filled with his seed. 

“What the hells-this!?” a drunken man shouted, pulling Seska off Chakotay’s lap. Chakotay dared to look up at the Kazon barely lit by the campfires. Chakotay never would have imagined himself feeling so relieved to seeing Culluh’s ugly face. 

Seska scrambled to her feet then punched Culluh in his nether regions. The thug doubled over, wheezing for air as Seska grabbed him around the neck. “I am not your property, _Little Man_.”

“You’re… my… wo-man,” he struggled to say. 

“Should’ve thought of that before you took your little Ocampa plaything. If you’re horny, go stick your cock into her. I’m no one’s woman now,” she spat at him, before releasing to fix her clothing. 

Culluh growled and slowly straightened, rubbing his neck. "An’ soil myself with that Ingin-gurl?" he held a look of disgust. "No. Look at her... those beady eyes, tiny body, short hair, hell I thought I grabbed a boy. We could’ve put a boy to work, but her? Useless." 

"Then shoot her and be done with it, cause I'm done hearin’ you bitch 'bout her," she hissed. 

Culluh glared, clenching his jaw but thought better than to continue auguring . He took a swig from the flask in his head then hobbled off with what little dignity he had left. He barked at someone off in the distance leaving Seska to finish whatever she wanted with Chakotay. 

“Well he certainly killed the mood,” Seska sneered, turning her attention back to Chakotay. She grasped his length, giving a firm stroke from base to tip before tucking it back into his pants. “Another time Cha-ko-tay,” she grinned and left him - sprawled in the dirt, his cock fully teased, and his emotions drained to the point of collapse. 

Alone at last, Chakotay finally broke down and cried quietly, a wave of relief flooding his emotions. He did not come inside her, Chakotay’s body did not give her that satisfaction. He silently prayed to the spirits for Kathryn’s safety and prosperity without him, before asking them to collect his soul tonight. He drifted off to sleep, cold, beaten, raped, and wishing for his own quick death.

=/\=

Dawn had not come soon enough for Kathryn. Though she had gained some energy and strength since the day before, her dreams kept her in a state of fitful sleep. In each and every fantasy Chakotay died in one way or another. He died by knife, by gun, by the rope, and in her last nightmare by falling off a cliff's edge while protecting her. It didn’t matter _how_ , just that they all ended the same way, with him gone and her alone. The nightmares were slow to fade when she woke. Kathryn desperately hoped that Chakotay was safe and that these dreams would not come to fruition.

With her nerves abuzz and her mind eager to rescue Chakotay, Kathryn dragged herself to the kitchen to collect some supplies from the Paris’ before setting off. B’Elanna was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of hot coffee sitting in wait for Kathryn. “We need to talk,” B’Elanna pushed the mug across the table to Kathryn. 

“There isn’t time B’Elanna, I’m sorry-”

“Kathryn Janeway you sit your ass down right now!” B’Elanna barked. “Ain’t no one up yet, so you got time.” 

The windows outside were all dark, and the steaming mug looked too tempting to ignore. Reluctantly Kathryn took a seat picking up the cup and nodded for B’Elanna to continue. 

“I know Chakotay means a lot to you. He does to me too, hell I never would have met Tom without Chakotay. But I ain’t sure you know exactly what you’re going up against,” the younger woman began. 

“I’ve faced the Kazon before, remember, they shot me,” Kathryn muttered, taking a sip of the black liquid gold. “I’m eager to return the favor to Culluh.”

“Kazon are one thing, but Seska is another matter entirely,” B’Elanna continued. “Seska is ruthless, clever, and devious. You’ve heard the say’n _‘Hell hath no fury’?”_ Kathryn nodded, recognizing the phrasing from old literature her father read to her once when she was young. “Well that’s because the devil put all the wrath of hell into Seska. You need to be careful, Kathryn. If she sees you coming she’ll cut Chakotay’s throat just so you can’t have him.”

Kathryn placed the mug back on the table, taking it all in. From all the things she had heard about the woman from Chakotay and now B’Elanna it was hard to imagine that Kathryn’s loving, caring Chakotay could have ever been in love with such a woman. 

“I appreciate you telling me all this, but it ain’t gonna change my mind. I love Chakotay and I don’t know if...if I can go on living without him,” tears formed in Kathryn’s lashes. “If he dies, B’Elanna, I’ll die.”

A smile pulled at the corner of B’Elanna’s lips. “Then you go off and get him. Get him and live to a ripe old age. Go get him back so that bitch can’t have him.”

=/\=

The sky painfully grew lighter and Kathryn’s makeshift posse began to get ready for the dangerous rescue mission. B’Elanna set the group up with a last home cooked meal fit to feed an army. The men ate their fill but Kathryn had little appetite with her nerves on edge and her heart pounding from the copious amounts of coffee that morning; but she made a point to ingest something that morning to satisfy B’Elanna’s scowl. Harry helped pack and readied Kathryn’s horse, and just as the sun cracked on the horizon, the four of them were ready.

Kathryn nodded her thanks to B’Elanna before she, Tom, Neelix, and Tuvok rode east, leaving the spitfire B’Elanna with the young Mister Kim. 

“Do you think they’ll find Chakotay?” Harry asked B’Elanna, watching the group get smaller and smaller as they rode away. 

“I hope so, Harry. Seska was never quite right in the head. There ain’t no tellin’ what she’ll do with Chakotay,” she replied, rubbing her belly. “May the Lord Almighty watch out for him now.”

=/\=

Something cold and wet hit Chakotay, ripping him awake from his dreamless sleep. Of course he doubted that he actually slept in his painful arrangement, merely drifted in a semiconscious state as he lay in the dirt. He had regrettably survived the night and glared up at the Kazon holding the empty bucket. The grimy thug laughed and he pulled Chakotay up right.

“Wake up pig,” he grunted, cutting the ropes around Chakotay’s wrists. 

Chakotay’s limbs fell useless at his sides, heavy with a tingling sensation that ran the length of his arms. He could barely move them after being tied behind him all night. The thug wrenched Chakotay’s arms forward to which he stifled a cry to the shooting pain in his stiff shoulders and chest. His wrists were then shackled in irons in front of him, the cuffs probably collected off the body of a dead lawman. The metal bands were too small for his wrists and they dug into his already tender flesh. The Kazon gave the irons a good tug testing their strength before leaving Chakotay alone. 

Chakotay observed that the Kazon were not morning dwellers; half of the men were still noisily asleep, farting and snoring so loudly it was a wonder how they ever avoided lawmen. The few awake were served food from the Ocampan girl. She scurried through the pit of snakes like a little mouse, and stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the ruthless grime covered men. The Ocampan girl was petite with short cropped blond hair, she had rosy cheeks underneath her bruises and her skin was near pail white. Chakotay had never met an Ocampa before but he remembered tales of his ancestors crossing paths with hers, ages ago. 

The girl handed a plate of food to Culluh first, before moving on to serve the others that were awake. Chakotay watched as Culluh grabbed her wrist while sniffing the offering of brown food, then held the plate inches from the girl’s face. The Ocampan girl had spunk but she did not appear foolish. She scooped her fingers into his beans then ate the food right off his plate. Culluh continued to hold out the food till the girl ripped off a piece of the biscuit, eating it too. “See, it's not poisoned,” she huffed in her deep matronly voice, freeing herself from his grip to go about her task. 

“The day I have you stop testin’ my food, is the day you’ll just be bold enough to try,” Culluh barked after her. The girl ignored him and handed a plate to another man laying on his bedroll. She then fixed one more smaller plate and brought it over to Chakotay.

“Here you go,” she smiled, handing him the food. 

Chakotay declined the offering with a head shake, his wet hair sticking to the side of his head, but the girl was not deterred so easily. She sat down next to him and gave him a rosy smile. 

“What’s your name?” she asked. 

“It’s not important.” He stretched his fingers, the tingling slowly ebbing away. 

“Of course it is,” the girl rested a tiny hand on his forearm. “My name is Kes of the Ocampa.”

Kes was a dainty little thing, hell to Chakotay she looked like a child, but she had a strong presence much like Kathryn. Her kind face was warming and he felt a connection with her. Perhaps it was their shared peoples’ background or their mutual entrapment. Whatever the case may be she was the only friendly face in this hell. “I’m Chakotay,” he finally replied. 

“A pleasure to meet you Chakotay, though the circumstances are not ideal,” she smiled. “You should eat, maintain your strength for whatever is to come,” she said, handing him the food. 

“Thank you.” He took the plate and set it in his lap, with no intention of eating it. 

Kes must have sensed this because she turned her head and cocked him a brow. “If you don’t eat it then they will. Do you really want to give away your food to them?” 

Kes’ bluntness pulled at the corners of his lips. He sighed then gave her a wink. “You’re very wise for one so young.”

“Well I feel like an old woman, having been with him so long,” she nodded over to Culluh, who was eating his food with a skeptical scowl. 

“How long have you been with these men?”

“Almost three moon cycles. I was waiting for someone when the Kazon came, destroying our camp and taking our food. Culluh kidnapped me just before they left and I haven’t seen my people since,” she explained. “I hope the Caretaker is looking over my father in my absence.”

“I wish I could help you Kes, but I am sure they will not be keeping me around long.”

“I don’t know what Culluh’s plan is, but I’ll keep an ear out for you. In the meantime, you need to eat, keep up your strength.” Kes rose and brushed off her skirt. 

“Thank you.”

“You can thank me by eating,” she smiled then left. 

Chakotay had no appetite, but Kes had a point, if he didn’t eat it then his captures would. Chakotay placed the plate on the ground then used his fingers to draw a symbol in the dirt next to it. They had taken his freedom, and his dignity, but they could take his faith. In the dirt he drew a _‘Chamoosee’_ ,a blessing to the earth, as the ground around him was tainted with the events of last night. With any luck it would never happen again.

=/\=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me as I push through to get this WIP finished. Please let me know what you think. I adore comments and kudo as they really motivated me.


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